Kin From The Stars: Incursion
by sweawm
Summary: Fifteen years since the Covenant War, ONI discovers the Systems Alliance; decimated by the Reapers six years ago. Faced with the creation of a second Insurrection from the ramifications of their influence; an inevitable uprising, ONI begins a radical new plan, in a desperate attempt to buy the UNSC as much time as possible, and for that, it will need a new generation of Spartans...
1. Prologue I: Discovery

_**Kin From The Stars: Incursion**_

* * *

**Prologue Part I: Discovery  
**

* * *

_**Semper Vigilans - Always Vigilant - ONI Motto **_

* * *

**5th August, 2568 (UNSC Standard Military Calender) **

What they were currently seeing redefined Human history as they knew it, more so than the Forerunner revelations. The sheer amount of new Intel pouring in from their Recon teams was enough to cut their AI's expected life span in half, their minds overwhelmed by just how much they learned in hours.

Now the Office of Naval Intelligence's top brass sat at a table inside a ship that didn't officially exist, to once again discuss information that would possibly never see the light of day.

"So just how many know?" was the first and obvious question.

"Beyond our Prowler crew? Only anyone who has access to this room," Rear Admiral Antony Curtyn; chief of the ONI Prowler Corps, responded.

"What about the original exploration vessel that uncovered the... anomaly?" A question came from Captain Gibson.

"They never actually saw the planet or the stellar object, they only detected its energy readings," Curtyn reassured them. "The Prowler that followed up the lead, suspecting an alien contact, were the only ones who witnessed the stellar object. I still have them on stand by in a nearby star system, waiting for further orders."

"The decision is, should we investigate this further?" one of the senior brass questioned. "and should this information be ever divulged? To the civilian government or even the populace as a whole?"

"Only as the last option," Admiral Margaret Parangosky quickly quashed any possibility of that. Indeed, the look on ONI's commander in chief's face was one of deep thought mixed with an unavoidable discomfort. Indeed, the one hundred and six year old head of ONI seemed more than uncomfortable with the situation "While the validity of the information currently being processed cannot be denied, for obvious reasons, this information will never be released unless contact becomes inevitable."

"Our obvious choice of route would to be initiate long-range, or even close range studies," Curtyn added his own advice. "It's likely we'll never see an opportunity to conduct such investigations like this again."

"They would have to be conducted carefully," the head of Section II; ONI's propaganda branch, Elisa Thompson argued. "We should not even estimate the back lash unleashed if this backfired and we were brought accountable for it."

"We won't," Parangosky agreed, "any recon or operations conducted from this point forward, would obviously through proxies."

That wasn't something they had to do for quite some time. For over a century now, they had grown accustomed to operating inside UNSC where they were above the law, and outside it, where they considered was no law. Since the end of the Covenant War however, ONI had begun to grow a new small batch of 'private organizations' which served as separate vessels for their operations in former Covenant space, to stay true to the Treaty that HIGHCOM had bound them under.

They even had a few Kig-Yar mercenaries who had been covertly recruited, to operate under the orders of their convert agents. They were paid well, and no one, not even the Kig-Yar themselves had any clue that who held their chain. It was a bit bothering when they were wiped out by their fellow clans, though over the years, they have grown more experienced in handling Xeno mercenary forces.

"I wouldn't go as far to start planning any field trips yet until we know exactly what we're dealing with," another Division Leader within Section III added. "I still don't believe that we could have found another Humanity. Processing a revelation like this, is beyond the entirety of the scientific branch."

Another Humanity indeed. Aligned with alien races. It was hard to swallow, almost beyond imaginable.

"On the other Humanity branch of the argument, have you come up with any possible theories to explain this yet, Doctor Lendin?" Elisa Thompson raised the question.

"Our AI's are doing their best to compare the information our Prowler extracted from their equivalent of a planetary network, their home world, timeline and ours," the head of their Scientific Branch; and ONI's chief scientist ever since Doctor Halsey had 'died' so to speak, Doctor Lendin answered. "However, we put the time which either of our populations were separated at more than fifty thousand years, which is far too little time for this to be the work of the Forerunners, who were already terminated by the Halo Array at that time. It's still tens of thousands of years prior to even the first events of recorded history among the Covenant species."

"Another alien presence then?"

"Exactly my thought," Lendin agreed. "While from the uncovered artifacts show in Covenant civilization that they had the... gifts of the Forerunner, they were certainly not the first group of space fairing species to return to space after the Halos activation. If an alien race visited the Earth about fifty thousand years ago, took a number of subjects to another world... we could have kin among the stars."

"A very interesting subject," Parangosky nodded, "but we must all understand that this discovery poses a greater threat to our own civilization than the Covenant War."

Everyone assembled in the room past gazes between each other, wondering if the person sitting next to them knew more than they did, and perhaps this new branch of Humanity were insane cannibals that could send the Covenant running for their mothers. However, this threat wasn't in a conventional sense, but a cultural threat.

"I'm bloody well sure, that nobody in this room would even think they could imagine a time when there was no more than one government that represented the entirety of Humanity," Parangosky explained, standing up. "When the UEG was founded, and the UNSC beyond that, the first President made a speech that defined us.  
Never again, shall Humanity stand divided. Never again, will any of Humanity live under another code of law that is not the accepted law of the many."

"I am quite familiar," Doctor Lendin nodded, "the exact philosophical reasoning for combating the insurrection."

"And the exact reasoning that I'm saying now," Parangosky agreed. "If the masses ever became aware of a Human government that is not the United Earth Government, then I'm must confess that we would not stand any test of time. I think we all must agree, that the UNSC saved Humanity. If we had appeased the Insurrection Movement, let our colonies separate themselves from Earth, then we would have never stood one chance at surviving the Covenant."

That itself, was undeniable true fact. Assuming that every UNSC world had been self-governed at the time of the Covenant War, then each world would have obviously taken to its own best interests, and the Covenant would have defeated each planetary military world by world instead of facing the united UNSC fleets that had bulked together, fortified and coordinated a joint response from across the entirety of Human space.

Any many among those present now, that Humanity wasn't just saved by the UNSC's military strategy, but by their own less ethical and... Utilitarianism means. Without the UNSC, there would have been no Office of Naval Intelligence, and thus forth there would have never been any Spartan Program, a key factor in their survival.

It had been the UNSC that protected Humanity, guided it, acted in the overall interests of it, and had grown Humanity to where it was now.

"What we know of this 'Systems Alliance', is the fact that they have allowed Humanity to leave their jurisdiction and space, and have allowed their independence to be corroded by alien powers which constrain technological advances such as AI technology. The fact is, they are weaker for it. If we informed the UEG Senate, they would obviously be naive enough to step forward and make contact with them. Two results from this. Either this Citadel Council would attempt to force us together with our lost brethren and we lose everything, or the Insurrection would collapse the UNSC under a surge of protesters demanding the same rights of this other Humanity."

There was a collaborative nod from every Section and Division Head of ONI. The two obvious outcomes presented were possibly the only results that could out of contact, maybe asides from a small hope that the UNSC could starve off another even greater civil war against the rebellion possibly backed by interlopers from this other Humanity.

"It is our duty to protect Humanity and the UNSC, and we shall do so," Parangosky concluded. "From what our AI's conclude, they and their alien civilization counterparts have built themselves upon a network of jump gates they term Mass Relays. This means, by our own standard, they are randomly scattered across the entirety of our galaxy. Once again, relying on this Mass Relay technology, they have weakened themselves since they have not uncovered any means to go beyond a star cluster on their primitive FTL tech. It is fact that our reversed engineered Covenant Drives can reach speeds a hundred times that of their own FTL, and that's not even considering how tiny that is compared to the Forerunner Slip Space Drives.  
This means, that as long as they keep to their Relays, they will never uncover the UNSC which sits beyond the boundaries which they can travel. Meanwhile, we have the opportunity to gaze in on them. As the Rear Admiral here, suggests," she nodded to Curtyn, "we can study them without even a chance that they will know of our existence. Thankfully enough, we still look exactly the same as our kin, and this opens up possibilities for infiltration and recon."

"I'll see to it, that the UEG Department of Navigation marks all these star clusters within these Mass Relays exists as hazard sectors," Curtyn agreed. Even Rebels and Pirates steered clear of areas of space that had been marked as dangers, not willing to chance it that the government was hiding something or they really were about to jump into a Slip Space anomaly that saw them transit into a wormhole.  
Also, by the coordinates of the cluster we found, I place it too far away for the old covies to uncover anytime soon."

"From this point forward, this discovery and information relevant are classified and shall only be discussed within Section III, Beta Five. Rear Admiral Curtyn will coordinate the further reconnaissance of the Systems Alliance coordinating with the Asymmetrical Actions Group." Parangosky declared, sealing the fate of all that was revealed to ONI's top brass. "Section I, is furthermore responsible for silencing any leaks of the existence of this information and I want Section II to prepare a contingency package in case that contact is initiated."

Indeed, this was big enough to coordinate all Sections of ONI; save for Section Zero that handled internal investigations. For everyone inside Odin's Eye, on the ship that didn't exist known as the Point of No Return, their prospective on the universe had changed forever.

Humanity hadn't just found aliens amongst the stars.

* * *

**Several Months Later...**

**21st November, 2192 (Systems Alliance Earth Standard)  
**

Across the expanse of the galaxy, far from even the Orion Arm, stood one who was a legend to the many.

Commander Mathew Shepard knew the dangers of becoming the reclusive hero. Following the Reaper Wars, in the many conversations he had with people he'd met along the way, Kahlee Sanders; a friend of the late Admiral Anderson, had told him about her farther, the legendary John Grissom who had at his time been a mythical hero amongst Human history as Shepard was today, though Grissom never wanted the spotlight, and became a reclusive old man who just wanted to escape his own identity.

It wasn't a path he wanted to go down, and Shepard at least knew he couldn't disappear forever. He had kept up the fight. Against the remnants of Cerberus, and later against the resurgent threat from the Terminus outlaws.

That was why he was currently once again standing on the bridge of the Normandy as it initiated yet another jump through the Relays.

"Hitting the relay in 5..."

"A countdown is pointless, Jeff. I am perfectly capable of monitoring our progression to the Relay."

"Way to kill the nostalgia, EDI," the pilot Jeff Monrou, otherwise known as Joker, chuckled. "There are only two people on this ship that remember the initial Utopia shakedown run."

"The way Eden Prime kept going down, I think the star system is in need of a rename," Shepard nodded in agreement. "Less Utopia, more the Bad Luck System."

"Oh, I'm sure they're not getting invaded this week again..." Joker rolled his eyes playfully. "We go through the next Relay to Hades Gamma, then were only six more Relay jumps till the Perseus Veil."

"Makes me wonder how Sovereign initially got this far from Geth space without somebody noticing," Shepard commented, gazing out at massive colossal structure known to the galaxy as the Mass Relays grew ever larger as they approached. "Though, I guess have your own personal Relay network helps, doesn't it?"

The Mass Relays generated a mix of emotions amongst them. While having the Relay system back again and intact about a few years after the war, they still didn't know everything about them as the Reapers did. The Reapers could adjust Primary Relays to jump to any other Relay nearby, and they could adjust secondary Relays to send them pretty much anywhere in the galaxy. Despite having overthrown the galaxy's Reaper masters, they were still like kids playing with advanced technology. They could use it, but they didn't particularly understand how it worked yet, either.

Hopefully, however, they would be one step closer to finding out the Relay's inner workings soon, as well as working out how the Reapers also had so much more efficient jump drives.

"I could imagine it," Joker nodded in agreement. "No more traffic congestion for me. Seriously, the Relays into the Serpent Nebula are more congested these days than if you tried flying the entire old Migrant Fleet through the Presidium ring."

"Speaking of the Migrant Fleet, and thus speaking of-"

"Yea, yea, I get the picture, Shepard," Joker told him. "Tali still down in engineering?"

"Running the entire engineering component of the ship, yes," Shepard answered.

"The Normandy's necessary crew is actually significantly low, as long as I am present and we acquire regular maintenance between trips," EDI replied. "though Miss Zorah's continued operation of engineering without the assistance of Chief Adams, or Engineers Kenneth or Gabriel is remarkably efficient, all things considered."

"And I can fly this thing pretty well much on my own, so I guess all the rest of the crew have always been performance boosters rather than necessities, right?" Joker commented. "Or should I pick up the additional role of reminding you about your unread messages?"

"Well, after you taste anything I put together, you're going to have to add a cook to your list, Joker," Shepard added jokingly, nudging the pilot's seat.

"Gah..."

They hit the Mass Relay, and the Normandy was shot through faster than light speeds and ended up in another star cluster in the matter of seconds. Joker didn't drop them directly out at the Relay, but continued to drift, using only the minimum amount of fuel to move them just a bit closer to their destination at the next Relay.

"What you know? Drift in under fifth-teen hundred K."

"What am I supposed to say? Fifth-teen hundred K is good? Your captain will be pleased?"

"Something like that. We should have brought Kaiden along for this trip, and this whole nostalgic rerun could have gone a whole lot further," Joker answered.

"I don't recall anything about short conversation to make it nostalgic, really," Shepard commented.

"Yea, well, you just don't remember the hailstorm of rainbows and bunnies we encountered on Eden Prime," Joker muttered sarcastically, as they heard the door open behind them.

"What's this? You're remembering old times without me?" Tali jokingly told them, nudging Shepard's shoulder as she passed him.

"Be thankful," EDI answered, swiveling around in her chair , "I find sarcasm a rather unpleasant way of communicating."

"Better than saying 'death bots and their sentient dreadnought god', EDI." Joker responded, tapping away on the controls as he spoke. They dropped out of Faster Than Light in preparation for another Relay jump to the next Star Cluster. "A few more Relays to Rannoch."

"It'll be good to be back again..." Tali muttered.

"This time for a little longer stay?" Shepard smiled.

"Hopefully, yes." Tali nodded in agreement. It had been six years since the Reaper Wars, longer now than their entire journey (including the time he had technically spent dead), of three years by double. He hadn't exactly been able to retire, and months spent scouting for Cerberus Remnants became a year, then another... it was fine, as Normandy was as home to them as anywhere could be. While the remaining unindoctrinated Cerberus forces were willing to surrender at the sight of an Alliance patrol, demoralized beyond restoration, the time it had taken for them to bust down every last remnant had taken a year, which then became another...  
By time they finished dealing with Cerberus, the piracy and slaving business in the Terminus Systems had already recovered and was operating once again. Thus, they were thrust into another conflict.

"So once I drop you on Rannoch, I'm sure I'm able to take the Normandy for a little joyride around the galaxy, right?" Joker asked. "I'll have it back in one piece, I promise..."

"You know that the Normandy is to be returned to dry dock, Joker. Can hardly have you lose another Normandy," Shepard told him.

"Damn, I was totally hoping to scare some-" Joker stopped mid sentence, glancing down at the controls. "Hold on a sec. There appears to be a communication coming in; on the Quantum communicator."

"Just who from?" Shepard asked. Joker rolled his eyes again and began speaking mockingly:

"Why, it's just the Council calling on their new direct line, to boss us around some more. No. It's our old friend the Shadow Broker, of course."

"Liara?" Tali questioned, knowing that this might just be an interruption. A friendly social call would have come through the old relay COM buoys, not the Quantum Entanglement Communicators.

"Must be something important," Shepard concluded what they all knew. "I'll head back, and check it out." He turned around and headed back through the bridge door and Tali followed.

"Yea... well, just call ahead if were being diverted to another endless desert in the search of lost relics!" Joker called to them as they left. As the bridge door slid shut behind them, Tali rested her head against his shoulder as they walked.

"It'll be nice to get back to Rannoch again... a nice holiday for a while."

"It's good to get out of the Normandy for a while, right?"

"If it wasn't for EDI, I would have gone insane recalibrating the ship's equipment by now..." They passed through the old checkpoint, the scanner long since deactivated and left that way.

"Tell me, are the main guns calibrated?..."

"One more joke from Garrus and the next thing that Thannix Cannon will be firing is at you, bos'tet..."

They both stepped through the door into what had been the War Room during the Reaper War. Afterwards, a majority of the technology in the room save the table in the center had been removed by the Alliance, honestly no longer needed here. The entire room was empty save for the railings. Beyond however, was the Normandy's still intact Quantum Entanglement Communicators.

They eventually stood before the Communicator, and Shepard hit the bleeping panel for the incoming call to be brought up. Before them, a hologram of Liara T'Soni appeared, the Shadow Broker sitting and not standing.

"Ah, Shepard. Tali." The Asari nodded in greeting to the both of them. Shepard returned the nod.

"Liara. Going well?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, but I had to call you on something I found."

"It's rather an inconvenient time for this now, don't you think?" Tali questioned.

"I don't mean to drag you off course, but this information is rather concerning." Liara told them. "While you've been busy, in the Arcturus Cluster, at Benning, a sensor array belonging to the local universities set up to monitor nearby stellar anomalies detected strange readings not too far from the planet. It's not the output of Ezeo or anything we've encountered."

"You called on the Quantum Communicators to talk about an anomaly?" Shepard asked.

"If you'd let me explain, further, I'll explain that what many think is an anomaly, is something else entirely. It's very important."

"What's so special about this anomaly?" Tali questioned.

"Rips, and tearing in space itself. A hole, large enough to consume a ship, appears, but only for an instant before closing again. It appeared once, and then again nine hours later. The anomaly was noted, even reported, but then it happened again in larger numbers a week later. A ship was actually sent out to try to predict where the next tear would happen so it could be studied, but it could never get close enough. Until it was realized that a heat signature appeared each time this rip happened."

"So, holes in space let out hot air?" Shepard assumed, not exactly being a scientist in wormholes.

"No, nothing like that, even if it was possible to begin with. It's a heat signature of a ship, much like the Normandy's own stealth system. When emerging from FTL, the stealth system is unable to hide the amount of the ship's heat. Having worked on the Normandy myself, I was quick to recognize the signs of a stealth ship."

"The Alliance has many new Normandy Class Frigates itself, as well as the Hierarchy now," Shepard reasoned. "Sure this isn't just the Alliance testing new jump drive technology or their stealth systems?"

"With the Network functioning at full capacity again, as the Shadow Broker, I'd know about pretty much anything taking place anywhere civilized space. I doubt that anything we know of could have caused these worm holes. I honestly think it's a ship, though my theory however, has supposedly been debunked by this..."

Liara reached down and tapped a few buttons on her desk, transmitting two video streams, one an unedited version and another in Infrared vision. Shepard and Tali watched as the wormhole appeared, a blue gap torn in space. On the infrared, Shepard saw a mass of heat move out of this tear in space, though he saw totally nothing on the unedited video.

"Nothing we can see, comes out," Liara summarized, "this eventually led most back to what I consider ridiculous: some kind of anomaly caused by solar wind. I however, studied it closer and found this."

The footage played again, but the video was zoomed in and slowed down. They watched again as the infrared signature passed through the circular gap, but this time, the other video stream showed a shimmer pass through, this shimmer also passing through the infrared mass.

"What is that?" Shepard questioned.

"It's not like solar wind. The shimmer fluctuates in and out." Tali asked.

"The shimmer is far to irregular to be solar wind," Liara agreed. "I've constructed a profile from this, and I believe it does indeed fit something the size of a large Frigate. I even compared it with another set appearances of the anomaly, and I've discovered that they're highly alike. It some, it even happens in reverse, which I assume is the ship leaving the system."

"So your theory is that it's a ship creating these wormholes? Coming and going?" Shepard asked.

"More importantly, an invisible ship," Liara nodded.

"That's... impossible," Tali shook her head. "I mean, we've seen a few working portable stealth field generators around the place, and the Geth have them, but they just take up too much energy to ever even think of deploying on a ship. They're useless anyhow, seeing that most of the time, you can't see a tiny ship in space anyway."

"They'd be highly useful however. Combine invisibility with our current stealth systems, and we wouldn't have anyway to detect such vessels," Shepard noted. "They could decimate every ship we have, and we'd be defenseless."

"A very chilling line of thought, I agree," Liara nodded. "What's more important, is the fact that these invisible ships can spy on us, and we have no idea who they are or what they're doing. After coming out of their wormholes, we'd have no idea where they went after that."

"What I find more interesting is that Reapers never used technology like this," Shepard added.

"It could be like Legion said," Tali commented, "maybe this technology just wasn't on their technological path... and neither is it on ours."

Possibly indeed. Shepard knew the Reaper's technology was inherited from their almost vanquished creators: the Leviathans, and from what he knew of them, he doubted the Leviathans ever required the essence of stealth to conquer the galaxy. The Reapers obviously didn't ever need stealth either, with brute force a far easier option to them.

"I'm all but certain that these ships are coming in and out of the Euler System, and ever since we've started studying them, they just disappeared and began appearing somewhere else, on the dark side of the gas giant Silva, like they don't want to be found. When we tracked them there, they disappeared again. Perhaps they thought infiltration now was too risky, or perhaps they're now entering the system through an even more convert entry location."

"To you think you have enough evidence to put this forward to the Citadel Council, yet?" Shepard asked. "If these really are incursions, then they should know."

"Currently, every astrologist in the Arcturus Stream is debating over this," Liara told them. "While my opinion would be highly credible to any theory, I don't think the Alliance personally wants to even hear anything that could be trouble after the Reapers."

While Shepard personally despised those who dug their heads in the sand when trouble brewed, those same who caused so many damn casualties to the Reapers, he could understand the Alliance; still crippled by the war, not in any sort of mood for finding any trouble or causing unrest. It was better to blame this wormholes on a series on anomalies rather than dig into the alien incursion theory that would put everyone back on edge. Still, there was a price of ignorance.

"So do you have any further plans to look into this?" Shepard then questioned.

"Well, the exact reason I called you, was to see if while you were taking a break, Jeff could bring the Normandy to the Euler system and use your scanning system to see if we can track them. If we could get some real concrete evidence, it would move things along greatly and maybe even bring our possible visitors out of the shadows."

"That could be done," Shepard agreed.

"Thanks, Shepard," Liara nodded. "I'll send through the exact coordinates to Joker. Be safe, and may the goddess go with you."

The communication terminated and the Asari disappeared. Shepard didn't know what to think of this, but he trusted Liara's own thoughts. He turned, seeing Tali slouched against the wall slightly.

"What do you think of it?" He questioned.

"What do I think? That somewhere, somebody takes joy out of ruining every chance we get to spend some time together. We had to cut our last break short so you could resolve one incident, now it looks like our latest time away is going to get cut short if Joker pulls some alien spies out of the shadows kicking and screaming."

"Well..." Shepard shrugged. "then I'm sure hope they have the sense to run away when they see him coming. I promise this time, nothing-"

"Don't lie," Tali shook her head. "We both know when something comes up as it always does, we have to drop what were doing and run off again to resolve it. Don't tell me that if we suddenly got invaded by some invisible aliens tomorrow, you'd shrug it off and tell the Council you'd leave it for next week because it's been more than a year now since we've gotten to spend some decent time by ourselves. You'd have to get back on the Normandy, and do something. It's what I expect."

"You know I hate how it has to be that way," Shepard answered, taking her hand. "You know I've planned for us to leave the Normandy. Permanently. It's just..."

"You've figured out, that we never truly have stopped having problems. It's fact. After we finished with Cerberus, it had given enough time for all the Pirates that the Reapers had trimmed to come back in full force. After we dealt with that? There's simply just more somewhere else. It will never end, Shepard, we just need to..."

"give up and live the rest of our lives in peace?"

"Yes!... well... maybe. You've done so much, sacrificed so much, and of all people, you just deserve to just leave this behind. Really."

"Sometimes I want too, I really do, but... I'm worried that every time I turn my back, it'll all just fall apart. It's never been about the Geth, Cerberus or even the Reapers. It's been about... for the last few years, the Normandy's presence has broken the backs of any pirate or slaver incursion any cluster we've visited. I'd never forgive myself if I turned my back for a second, and another Mindoir happened..."

"That wouldn't be your fault and you should never think otherwise. Shepard... you won't be able to do this forever. One day, you'll have to accept that it's time to... let the galaxy run its course without you."

"Then what would you say then, if we just didn't come back from this break? If we left here, and never returned from the Normandy?" Shepard asked. "I've still got that promise to keep."

"Trust me, we've always got time for that as long as we live..." Tali told him, "just... I have to admit, the reason I've stayed all this time that the Normandy has been more a home to me than any house could be. If we come back to this after the month we spend on Rannoch, I don't mind. All I care about, is that if the time came, you'd be happy walking away from this."

"I'll always be happy as long as we're together..." they embraced in a hug.

"Thanks, Shepard... it really matters to me."

"I survived the Reapers, Tali. I don't think there's any stronger force in the universe that could keep us apart."

* * *

"Tell me, Doctor, what are the differences between... us and them." Vice Admiral Ned Rich questioned, looking quite intrigued at the work before him.

"There are actually very few differences, actually. There was once a theory that time was cynical. If one was placed under the same conditions, with no differences what so ever, would events occur the same? It is questionable," Doctor Lendin explained. "assume you Terra formed an entire star system, adjusted it with the great technological expertise that the Tier 0 species had, a placed an amount of Humans all across the planet... assume we had two Earths? Would they progress the same?"

"But aren't obviously the same," Rich questioned.

"Indeed not. While we see that they have a Terra formed Earth... or maybe we have a Terra formed Earth, that seismic events, cataclysms and other sorts happens in different time periods, as well as a completely different history. While it is geography itself that forms national borders, and they indeed did also go through similar time periods to our own. Since the gap is only about fifty thousand years, they haven't developed any significantly different language patterns, though they live in a translator based society where two individuals could speak a different language and never know the difference their entire lives."

"I expect history and geography to be difference, but what about aesthetics? If we dropped a man down onto one of their colonies right now, could he be picked out of the crowd?" Rich asked.

"Not really. As many know, our civilization has allowed us to grow rather rapidly in size that dwarf our ancestors, a bit of evolution to overabundance. Since our Earth has prospered far longer and more widely under civilization than our Systems Alliance counterpart, we may averagely have more superior Human beings, not counting our upgrades genetically and cybernetically; we are even far more superior in that field."

"So not only did they have to be lifted to the stars by aliens, they are also physically and evolutionarily weaker..." The Vice Admiral nodded. "I find that quite concerning."

"As much as I'd like to refute that, scientifically, you may just be correct..." Lendin nodded. "Though we just have so many similarities, we are technically still all Human. The differences aren't that much, and as I say: I'm speaking in averages gathered from UNSC Censuses and these ones we've taken from the System Alliance networks."

"Everything can't happen the same," The Vice Admiral was skeptical of that, sitting slouched forward on the bench from the stool he was sitting on amidst Lendin's laboratory. "So where exactly is the Prowler Corps extracting all this information, anyway?"

"The Systems Alliance, and all Citadel Space we believe, has an open interplanetary network that spans between all their worlds, a lot like our twentieth first century Internet I believe. Com Buoys constantly exchange probes through Mass Relays, so most of the time, they're so called 'extranet', is updated every so and so with new information from other star systems, sometimes almost instantaneously. A Prowler easily intercepted this, and its shipboard AI has used it to extract information useful to us, ever since."

"Ha, so not only are they naive enough to put all their information in the air for anyone to grab, but they also allow their worlds to share data?" He questioned. Of course, the United Nations Space Command had stopped any technological endeavor to create some way of expanding their networks beyond system wide in the twenty second century. Through Slip Space, with colonies separated by weeks of travel, by time anyone got any data, it would be totally out of date. A majority of the colonies didn't even have an equivalent to the Earth's internet before the Covenant War.

"Indeed so. I don't think they are that concerned for the security of data that is shared across their empire. In fact, they find it hard to believe than any space fairing species can prosper away from their Mass Relay network," Lendin explained.

"They might just be in for a rude awakening..." Rich suggested, "as far as Intel is concerned, they've got under even fifty real solid colonies, correct?"

"Well..." Lendin frowned, placing the tablet he was holding on the desk. "What our AI's have gathered, is that only six years ago, the Citadel Empire went to war with a Tier 1 civilization known as the Reapers, who supposedly were actually responsible for the construction of the Mass Relays and the colossal space station that serves as their capital. They won it, and eradicated the Reapers. Such scale of a conflict proves they may indeed have their own very powerful military powers."

"That 'Tiers' thing is something the eggheads down in archeology dug up from the Forerunners, Doc. As the newly uncovered evidence suggests, the Procusors were Tier 0 and that never saved them," Vice Admiral Rich dismissed it. "These 'Reapers', don't really compare up that well against our fleet, all the battle data the AI's have compared being considered. Their so-called 'Dreadnought' was two kilometers. Our old Halcyon Cruisers are one point two and the Infinity is five and a half. If the Systems Alliance beat them off with insuperior MAC Canons and the fact they never learned how to successfully deploy nuclear weaponry in vacuum, really downplays this now disposed of Reaper threat."

"I suppose you're right, sir," Doctor Lendin nodded, his morale perhaps spurred by Rich's point of view. If the Reapers ever actually came to the UNSC... they would have been dealt with. "They're dead now anyway, so I guess they don't matter. The fact is, the Systems Alliance at the moment may be well experienced in the arts of war, but their as war-weary as we are from our war with the Covenant about ten years ago.

"Yes, but we were bigger to begin with," Vice Admiral Rich confidently responded. "We built our technology, our empire, while they leached it off aliens. We fought our own war for survival, and we won it alone. It's obvious were the stronger branch."

"But maybe the more vulnerable branch, sir," Lendin added. "while the amount of freedom they grant citizens has significantly crippled their ability to control their security, the cultural impact they could have on us just through contact could break us."

"I've looked at a rundown of their capabilities, Doctor," Rich told him, "they allow terrorists to flourish, undermine government control and allow alien slavers to carry off their people. I don't know about you, but I think it's the other way around. I think, any other Human out there, those independent Terminus colonies not under Systems Alliance control, would see the logic and reasoning in the UNSC, as well as the security it provides."

"The problem would be if they don't, Vice Admiral." Doctor Lendin told him.

"It doesn't matter really," Rich simply added. "I trust in Rear Admiral Curtyn to keep his ships far from any peeking eyes. Besides, their technology shall prove useful, especially if we can replicate these 'Mass Relays'."

"They've tried, sir, but the Relays appear to be extremely advanced pieces of technology. Rear Admiral Curtyn is still working on a plan to capture us a Mass Effect Drive for study."

"Oh, it's just not the technology that's important, Doctor... in fact, their 'Biotics' could be of benefit too."

"How so? That we could replicate their abilities to our soldiers? It would be a massive advantage against the Covenant remnants."

"Well, yes. It's just what I had in mind for an upcoming project I've been placed in charge of," the Vice Admiral nodded. "So I'm ordering you to keep informed on any further updates on your efforts into uncovering more of these Citadel worlds, Doctor."

* * *

**Two Months Later****  
**

Doctor Catherine Halsey was hardly even in the general emotional state to even want to see any faces of the ONI bureaucracy that damned her to her fate, but it wasn't like she had a choice.

Led by two armed guards through the corridors of Station Ivanoff, she was seated at a meeting table, the same meeting table in which Admiral Parangosky had condemned her to be kept here on this research station orbiting Installation 03.  
A part of her mind wondered if she was about to meet the Admiral yet again. In the last few weeks, her current work had dried up as less and less Forerunner technology was passed onto her to study. Maybe she had finally outlived her usefulness and was about to get a merciful execution. Or perhaps the elderly head of ONI had died, and her successor had come personally here to make the fact known to her and that things weren't going to change one tiny bit.

Whatever scenario she theorized, she dreaded it.

It was actually surprising when it was Beta Five Division Member, Rear Admiral Ned Rich, now Vice Admiral Ned Rich, who was there. Apparently, the man had significantly cleaned himself up over the last few decades, maybe after growing some sense and wanting to get his career back on track. Regardless of any of that, he was here.

"Ah, Doctor Halsey. They're quite not as dead as they say you are," Ned Rich smiled. Halsey didn't bother to return it.

"I've spent over a decade now without any decent social contact with another Human being, Vice Admiral, but that doesn't mean I've lowered my standards when it comes to humor."

"Hm. Of course," Rich simply nodded, looking down at the folder in front of him. "Believe it or not, Doctor, despite your fallout from favor, you still are quite a valuable asset to ONI. I personally just wish that you could be applied to a place where you could be of more use to us."

"On a Research Station orbiting an artificial ring world isn't applied enough?" Halsey questioned, wondering what great event had arisen to take ONI's eyes off looting every last bit of Forerunner technology they found.

"Depends on what were studying. Old relics of a dead race. Or Humanity itself." Rich told her. "Tell me, are you familiar with the code Snake Eyes?"

"I still remember every ONI Code from when I was actually informed of anything, and that's not one of them. It must have come into use in the decades I spent rotting away here," Halsey commented. "Whatever it is, just how would it be relevant, Vice Admiral?"

"The codeword Snake Eyes, deals with defection, but not the defection of any regular UNSC personnel. The code Snake Eyes was created with the Spartan IV Program, to deal with the obvious risk of Insurrectionist infiltrators or defectors. The risk of creating an Insurrectionist Super Soldier is well guarded against."

"That's what happens when you drop the ethical code, isn't it, Rich?" Halsey questioned, knowing obviously how this result. There were always traitors in every conflict.

"Indeed. Code Snake Eyes was first declared nine years ago, on a single rogue soldier. Currently now, we have nineteen declarations of Snake Eyes. Five years ago, Admiral Parangosky placed me in charge of a new Program to correct any errors we made."

"Surprising, or maybe not," Halsey commented again, "at this rate, I estimate by the next century, we may already have Spartan X's, right?"

"It's far from humorous, Doctor." Rich told her. "The Spartan V Project shall avoid any previous ethical and moral issues, while also avoiding recruiting those who may betray us later on."

"Hm," that was probably the only thing in the conversation that slightly intrigued her. Not recruiting adults, but not recruiting younger either.  
"So how will you do that, Vice Admiral?"

"Flash Cloning is still practically useless on a large term scales, but practical cloning isn't. With the right systems, we've avoided any significant financial cost, and created a new wave of subjects for our program," Rich explained.

"Interesting... full-grown clones," Doctor Halsey acknowledged, "though I see we still don't abide by UNSC Medical Law, do we?"

"Petty comments aside, Doctor, this is an obvious true step towards creating a worthy successor to the earlier program," the Vice Admiral stated. "though, clones aren't all I wanted for the program. I suggested to Admiral Parangosky, that we attempt something new. Something that will make this program landmark, just as your II Program did so long ago now."

That may of slightly been interesting, though Halsey was sure it was Rich's ego speaking. Unless they could their soldiers neigh invincible, she doubted they could come anywhere close to even matching her Spartan II Program.

"A shift from focus on direct combat," Rich surprisingly announced, "to infiltration. The Spartan IV Program is still in operation and handles putting Spartans in combat zones, but what I wanted is a new type of Spartan. One with the unique capability of handling any threat, anywhere in the galaxy. One with the unique capability of addressing the unique new crisis ONI had found us in."

"Interesting... and just how would these changes be?" Halsey questioned.

"Well first, not all subjects would be Human." Rich announced, and that sentence was the first thing in years, no, decades, that generally had generated a real response from her. It was intriguing, yet... highly unpractical.

"All you need to do is talk to any xenologist, who could tell you that such an insane effort is doomed to failure," Halsey told him. "I don't see how it could work."

"That's why I have recruited nearly every remaining top Sentient Xeno Specialist I could find," Rich told her. "It's been quite some time since we met other sentient amongst the stars. We know them now, Doctor. After intense study and theories undertaken on test subjects, I have been told that Sangheili are highly compatible for the program when recruited at the correct age. They can even be upgraded, just like your Spartans to be better than their own rabble. Imagine, Doctor, split lips fighting for us, instead of against us."

"Do you know why I never lied to the candidates, Rich?" Halsey questioned. "I could have spun any number of lies to motivate them, to make them thankful of their place, but I didn't. I told them the truth, because in order to ensure their complete loyalty, I knew I couldn't lie to them. Honestly, I have no idea how you plan on putting a creature into battle against its own kind and not thinking one moment that it would ever have second thoughts about its allegiance?"

"And how do your Spartans shoot their fellow beings? It's because their loyal and they know what their fighting for." Rich answered. "They won't be the only ones either."

"Oh?" Halsey added. "Has the UNSC boomed into a wide galactic community while I was locked up? There are many sentient beings out there, ripe for ONI's picking? Because I certainly don't remember ONI having that ability."

The Vice Admiral showed a genuine sign of amusement. Rich glanced down at his folder.

"Indeed, a new situation has arisen in which the UNSC requires sight into foreign territory a Human just can't get to. This new contact incident and the need for these infiltrators, was what spurred this radical change of concept to begin with. We could operate anywhere."

"Your program sounds quite ambitious, Vice Admiral," Halsey told him, "though it's another thing entirely in pulling this thing off."

"That's why, I want the best, no matter what. I consider you, Doctor, to be that best." Rich finally got the point of the entire trip. "We're still a year out from even starting the program, and your expertise and experience would be invaluable to us. I was willing to bargain with Margaret to even get you to chance to change from this dead-end research station back to a real innovative project were someone of your intelligence is needed. Would you be willing to consider, accepting my offer, and join my new Program as Head Supervisor?"

Halsey was silent for the moment. She mused what an offer she was facing. She had spent the last two decades struggling with her own conscience to try and redeem some of the guilt that warped her mind after the Spartan II Project, which she never successfully had thanks to ONI. Now, she was being offered to do the same thing again, but since it was to non-Humans (and some clones), it was now slightly more morally acceptable?  
The Program would go ahead regardless if she joined with the Vice Admiral's highly unprovable program, but if he had somehow convinced Beta Five to allow the changes he proposed, then maybe it was more likely in succeeding than her bitter mind thought... and maybe it was her one chance to escape her own personal hell.

"The offer still stands, Doctor." Rich decided she spent far too much time musing about it. "My ship departs in six hours. If you do wish to join me, all you have to do is say the word."

"What I don't understand is why you couldn't just ask Parangosky to transfer me to your program," Halsey told him. "It's not like I would have a choice."

"Like you said earlier, the truth must be told in order to earn loyalty. You'd be useless unmotivated." Rich nodded.

"Then... I accept your offer." Halsey finally agreed.

"That's good, Doctor." The Vice Admiral smiled as he rose to his feet. "I knew you'd understand. Return to your quarters, and prepare for your transfer. Oh, and I may just recommend to clean up your act. I do understand you've been locked away on this hunk of metal for a decade, but I won't excuse any further insubordination under my command. I'll enjoy working together with you in the future, Doctor Halsey..."

The Vice Admiral turned and left the room at a brisk pace. Halsey still sat.

_I've been told to clean up my act by Ned Rich. How times have changed indeed..._

* * *

**_Author's Afterward:  
_**

**This was practically an idea of mine that popped into my head, and I honestly didn't think I could make it into a Fan Fiction, but after a day of sitting down and writing, I figured I could make something of this.  
Both Earth's aren't exactly the same. Which has the altered timeline, I'd say the UNSC.  
**

**While I enjoy looking through the Crossover sections from time to time, my personal favorite choice is in which an AU Timeline isn't created to mesh the UNSC and Systems Alliance together or the history of both universes, but allows both exist.  
I didn't exactly want to villainize the UNSC or ONI. Honestly, the UNSC is more in control than the Systems Alliance and has its pros and cons, as well as the Systems Alliance having their own strengths and faults.  
The two won't exactly collide, but as shown here, at least the Shadow Broker is aware of ONI's exploration.  
**

**For the Halo side, I put it ten years forward (Halo 4 never happened folks), but kept the familiar faces. I kept Admiral Parangosky as head of ONI because I honestly couldn't imagine Osman running it with the same efficiency, and technically, Parangosky is only a hundred and six  
I also sized up the minor character Rear Admiral Ned Rich, if you might remember him from Ghosts of Onyx has a particularly insubordinate member of ONI's Beta Five. In this particular fan fiction, he cleans up his act and actually becomes the competent ONI Officer obviously expected.  
And Halsey has spent a decade rotting away due to Parangosky's hypocritical moral crackdown and is thus quite bitter. **

**On the Mass Effect side, I haven't touched much yet, though from the start of choosing just where to place the story, I wanted to tell a sub-plot of how difficult it is for Shepard to simply stop being Shepard and leave the Normandy behind.  
**

**I also don't want this to be a one hit chapter, sort of thing. I've now got a lot of time on my hands, and I intend on getting at least another chapter done. Drop a review and tell me what you think of the story.  
**

**PS: The ENDING shall not be mentioned... ever...  
**


	2. Prologue II: A Message Written In Blood

**Prologue Part II: A Message Written In Blood  
**

* * *

_******"It doesn't matter what your enemy's intentions are, only their capabilities." - Admiral Margaret Orlenda Parangosky**_

* * *

_Communication Channel Theta, Communique 57463G7  
Classification Level: Psi  
_

_Sender: CINCONI  
Location: Specific Location Classified, Sydney, Australia, Earth  
_

_Receiver: Rear Admiral Anthony Curtyn  
Location: UNSC Loki, Instigator Class Prowler, Coordinates Classified  
_

_For the last few months, you're efforts in both gathering material for Beta-Three's TS&E Divisions as well as subjects for Project Ragnarok are commendable, but following the declaration of Killed in Action for Agent Neil Scott, I have decided to suspend all infiltration activities in every sector._

_Do not be mistaken, I do acknowledge that you were able to prevent the capture of Agent Neil's remains, as well as maintain our hidden presence, though the risks of these recon missions have become greater than first assumed. Seeing that all operations thus far have been concluded, from this point forward I have decided to withdraw all your Prowlers from recon and field operation activities.  
_

_The Charnara Incident; as it has been labelled, and all personnel responsible, have been reassigned or terminated, and the information is now strictly under classification level Omega, **never **to be discussed, on any circumstance prior to any, if necessary, declassification. I have further ordered the termination of all auxiliaries deployed during any operations over the last three months in former Covenant space. Though this seem a harsh measure, all of this is a necessity to leave no trace of our presence.  
_

_From this point forward, any technology recovered will be seized by Beta-Three. All unmanned recon drones are to be apprehended by Section III, and destroyed following the complete erasing of any data present. All Artificial Intelligence programs will undergo memory erasure, and shall be immediately reassigned. The Spy Buoy Network currently accessing the Extranet shall be left intact, but will no longer be connected to any of our primary communication channels.  
_

_And I regrettably find it necessary to inform you Anthony, that your position as head of ONI's Prowler Corps, shall henceforth revoked as of the 23rd of August, and the entire Prowler Corps shall undergo necessary cleaning by Section Zero the following month. By 11th of November, you shall be reassigned to Section Three, Spec-Ops Warfare Group.  
_

_Best of regards, Admiral Margaret Parangosky_

* * *

As much as she hated to admit it, this was exactly the one place in the galaxy she wanted to be, however the Vice Admiral's plan went down.

She was back on Research Station Trevelyan, though it seemed now it was more than just a passing curiosity of ONI. They had installed permanent facilities, obviously realizing the potential of utilizing the Shield World as a hidden base. This place was more secret than Onyx ever was, and of course, the perfect choice to undertake the Vice Admiral's new program.

"I suppose that I should know were exactly were getting these subjects from, Ananke?" Doctor Halsey questioned the translucent orange AI that floated beside her. She didn't particularly trust AI's that were not of her own creation, but Ananke seemed welcoming enough.

"The Office of Naval Intelligence has recruited a number of contractors to fulfill the role of recruitment," Ananke answered, her voice remarkably smooth, "in addition, a majority of subjects had been purchased from various trading sites that ONI has successfully infiltrated."

Doctor Halsey arched her eyebrow at that. They were purchasing slaves then, and she guessed that was along the lines of morally acceptable when it came to ONI. "So that's our 'diverse' source? They bought slaves"

"Indeed. Though Vice Admiral Rich prefers to use the term 'liberated'." Ananke responded, the AI of a Greek Goddess returning a nod of acknowledgement. "He sees it fitting that they shall be the ones to advance our cause."

"How sentimental..." Halsey muttered as she looked down at the data pad in her hand. "Two hundred and fifty subjects planned thus far?"

"That is correct. There will be divided into fifty teams of five for training exercises," Ananke explained. "Each of these teams will never have more than one member of a specific species, with the exception of placing both one of our existing subject's with another Human subject from the Relay Systems."

"So not only does he want to train aliens, he wanted to group them all together?" Doctor Halsey questioned.

"When trained in such fashion, the Vice Admiral hopes that their loyalty will ascend beyond their own kind to that of their entire unit. Having any unit composed of a single species that is non-human, will alienate them from our command. Grouping them together, they will not be fighting 'for the humans', but fighting for their collective species."

"Good reasoning, but hell of a risk. I hope someone factored in that Sangheili are carnivores and they're used to eating mammals.." Halsey commented.

"All considerations have been taken into factor, Doctor," Ananke nodded, data streaming in. "I've finished cyphering the information packets sent to us, and all the information within is now available. Possible Subject roster is now available."

"I'll review it now," Halsey scrolled over the new data transferred to her. "I'm noticing a pattern in the squad layout, though the fifth member doesn't follow it."

"Correct. Teams will be composed of one of the clone Spartans originally grown for this program, a Sangheili, and two other species from the newly uncovered Relay Systems: Turians and Quarians; the later we have been informed was extremely difficult to acquire in sufficient quantities. All four species are recognized for having similar growth patterns, thus allowing us to recruit and train them from a roughly the same age group. We plan to have acquired fifty of each, giving the initial two hundred number. The fifth member is varied among different teams, composing of a specialist member which was either not able to be recruited in mass numbers, or didn't fit the exact requirements."

"So they are?"

"We have recruited twenty of the other Human, 'Biotics', at the sufficient age. Fifteen Salarians are also present, though instead of taking far too long, they would grow faster than the rest of the group. Then there are also fifteen Bartarians, which on the Vice Admiral's advice, were withdrawn to a minor number of candidates rather than filling a planned original fifty themselves. There were concepts for recruiting from amongst the other races, but they were either deemed physically unsuitable, mentally unsuitable or simply had too long age spans for us to train them properly."  
Together, they form the additional fifty and have been placed as the fifth team member in all teams. Some teams may be cut down to four man teams if the fifth member is removed."

"I reviewed the implications of the discovery of Biotic powers. To think we always disposed of Ezeo as a safety hazard instead of realizing its true potential..." Doctor Halsey muttered off into deep thought.

"Since we never invented Ezeo based Mass Effect Drives as they call them, we have never had a need to harvest or utilize Ezeo, the reason why we never uncovered it's true power," Ananke explained.

"On the subjects of the Biotics, I thought from the Codex's we acquired, that it stated they were significantly rare among the Human populace?" Halsey questioned. "How exactly did ONI get twenty?"

"It seemed that six, seven or more years ago, a faction known as Collectors placed a bounty on any Human Biotic traded to them. In an effort to claim the significant bounty, many slave traders exposed pregnant slaves to Ezeo, killing many but generating at least some Biotic potential offspring. By time this happened however, the Collector's bounty was no longer present as they were exterminated," Ananke told her, with no trace in her voice even slightly moved from her usual calm by such facts.  
"Since Biotic's abilities are natural and can be very dangerous, this made them highly unreliable slaves, and slavers on the trading hub known as Omega, were willing to sell them to ONI Agents at a very low price," Ananke paused for a moment, before adding, "others were acquired through of bounty hunters."

"Figures," Halsey simply answered, "this project was hardly abiding by Section 0's 'Moral & Ethical Conduct Guidelines' to begin with."

"Regardless, we believe that all two hundred and fifty subjects will be perfectly physically viable for the program by our starting date in three months." All subjects are within the ages of five years to seven, or that growth level equivalent among the non-Human subjects."

"That doesn't mean mentally, Ann," Halsey applied a nickname for the AI that just popped to mind; shorter than saying Ananke, "I wouldn't expect them to take to it as well as the Spartan III's or even the II's did. It's going to be hell just getting this thing started."

"Never the less, the non-human subjects are simply experiments. If they fail, we'll still have the seventy strong Human subjects," Ananke dismissed her concerns, "and the program will do, exactly what it was originally designed to do."

"Speaking of those subjects, I want to know more about these clones that they put together," Halsey replied. "Just what are they exactly?"

"Well, what I think is, that they're natural Spartans."

* * *

"The tidings of this conflict do not bode well with any, Arbiter" Imperial Admiral R'tas Vadam stood in front of a holographic tactical display board, three dimensional images of a burning colony before them. "Just when we thought we turned the tide on those blasted apes..."

"This attack looks like the work of cowards," Thel Vadam stared down at the chaos, his expression grim. Both Sangheili were struck by what they seeing. "It reeks of the word of Kig'Yar... How much damage have they done?"

"My Ship Masters tell me that almost the entire colony of Engehios was razed," R'tas told him, unable to hide his disgust for the turn of events. "The Jiralhanae lead the assault, though a majority of the attackers were Kig-Yar. Special Operation's Officer N'tho 'Sraom, has stated in his report to me, that he believes them to be opportunists rather than fanatics or patriots, though all in service to either the still rogue Covenant aligned clans or Eayn's government. They struck from small vessel's fast and without any warning, hitting a majority of settlements. By time Fleet Master Kelik Nar'Seleni brought his fleet to the world, they had massacred more than two thirds of the people and fled.  
In his report, N'tho described evils that I dare not recite again here."

"I have seen my fair share and will not shriek away from it like a cowardly Doarmir about to be sheared of its fur," Thel responded. "Tell me all which they unleashed upon Engehios."

"They struck out settlements, slaying without pause. The Jiralhanae showed no mercy and looted wherever they went, eating their victims alive... but it was the Kig-Yar who were the more twisted. As they plundered and retreated, we believe they took young as captives, presumably to feed on alive or undertake worse acts upon them later on... their crimes sicken me."

"They are bold..." Thel simply muttered, "and soon they shall pay for their crimes in blood."

"I wholly agree, Arbiter," R'tas clenched his hands, as if already gripping a sword which to behead the next foe he saw. "Our retribution should be swift upon these beasts and mongrels. We have not seen such atrocities for over a decade since we crushed the last Jiralhanae alpha tribes..."

"An atrocity indeed..." the Arbiter looked upon the fallen colony. "All those responsible should face the might of our fleets. The Assembly of Kaidons shall fully agree with us. If we must wage war upon Eayn, then that is what we should do. The Jiralhanae have already lost everything they hold dear, but now it is time to put those Kig-Yar in their place."

"I propose that we glass the pirate's haven from orbit," R'tas proposed, slamming his hands together. "Your mercy to the helpless Jiralhanae colonies, I can understand, but Eayn harbors and gave birth to nothing more than a depraved society that thrives on their dishonest ways. The only way to deal with the Kig-Yar, is to exterminate the vermin."

"Perhaps..." Thel mused, "but I will not hastily consign a world to death ever again. We shall wreck retribution upon the Kig-Yar for this, I promise you that, though for the time being, we shall crush their enterprises, their ships and their holds. Burning more worlds shall only repeat past mistakes."

"As... as you say, Arbiter," R'tas bowed his head. "I must return to the Council immediately, to inform them of... your opinions regarding this crisis. I fear, brother, that you may not have all their confidences..." He turned, and hastily marched from the war chamber under Vadam Keep. Thel didn't bother watching him go, his gaze still resting on the hologram before him.

He was only one Kaidon, and while the rank of Arbiter was still de-facto head of state... his decision to turn over decisions to the assembly of Kaidon's in an act of limited _democracy_, may have might have well undone him. They, even R'tas as head of the military, were all bellowing for blood to be shed in vengeance for this, as is their way, but shedding blood may only instigate this conflict further. While the Kig-Yar deserved to burn in a thousand hells; if there ever was one as the Prophets once claimed, he knew burning Eayn would not end this, only prolong the fires of war.

They would all demand it, and R'tas would go through with it, with all Sangheili cheering it on... and there would be a lot more innocent blood spilled by time this was over.

* * *

_Communique 758939G93, Information Package Beta-Nineteen  
Communication Encryption: Psi-Omega  
[DESTRUCTION IS ORDERED IMMEDIATELY ON COMPLETION OF STUDY. FAILURE TO DO SO, IS A CAPITAL OFFENSE]_

_Sender: MIL AI 8275 [Alias: Ananke]  
Location: Project V Network, Trevelyan, Onyx, Zeta Doradus System  
_

_Receiver: Doctor Catherine Halsey  
Location: Starford Facility, Trevelyan, Onyx, Zeta Doradus System  
_

_*The following is a complete analysis report of subject groups, from general information to calculated chances of subject success. CINCONI has approved release of highly sensitive information to this project in a limited format, placing this communique between Psi and Omega classifications [Attached File: Office of Naval Intelligence Classification Restructure of 2559 (Just in case you haven't seen the new structure already - Ann)]. These reports must immediately undergo destruction following their review. ONI reminds all personnel that failure to do so, is grounds for immediate termination and maximum punishment of execution.  
_

_ **Report begins...  
_

_Subject Group Alpha  
_

_Species Common Term: Unclassified  
Species Scientific Term: Unclassified  
Home World: None  
Subject Group Number: 50 Subjects  
Gender Variety: **Y**/N  
_

_General Description: Subject Group Alpha consists of fifty artificially grown subjects specially created for the purposes of providing a ethically viable solution to recruitment for a Spartan V Program, as well as avoid the Flash Cloning Incidents of the II Program [See Attached File: Halsey Incident *Error: File Blocked*]. While new reverse engineered technology has made the creation of this subject group possible, it was still a large financial undertaking, and therefore, all subjects within Alpha Group should be considered as valuable as their newly introduced counterparts._

_*Note: Subject Group Alpha will obviously never have any possible loyalty issues. Subjects have been already trained assertive and dominate, and will likely lead in roles such as squad leaders. Consider Program Head favor Group Alpha for command positions in order to maintain future stability._

_Planned Upgrades: Major Upgrades Already Undertaken. Minor upgrades such as neural implants and various growth accelerators planned for introduction at acceptable age._  
_Motivation Level: Highly Motivated_  
_Subject Estimated Success Ratio: 100%_

_Subject Group Beta  
_

_Species Common Term: Sangheili  
Species Scientific Term: __Macto cognatus_  
Home World: Sanghelios  
Subject Group Number: 50 Subjects  
Gender Variety: **Y**/N  


_General Description: Group Beta is composed of fifty Sangheili subjects of both genders (See Attached File: Sangheili Social Structure by Professor Even Phillips). Acquisition was through Kig-Yar mercenary factions, who violently captured them, killing their parents in the process. Concluding this, ONI terminated the Kig-Yar mercenaries and placed blame with major Kig-Yar factions from Eayn. Subject group is thus unaware of any Human involvement in their abduction, a significant boon to efforts to bring them about to a positive line of thinking, as any hatred towards Humans taught by their parents has so far been outmatched by their hatred towards the Kig-Yar presently._

_*Note: Of all subjects, Beta have the most normalized upbringing compared to the rest of the subject groups, and unlike those others, have already inherited many of their parents traits and perceptions. While subjects can still likely be indoctrinated to the Program's intended views on their allegiance, their own views on subjects such as honor can most likely not be altered._

_Planned Upgrades: Major Augmentation overhaul if subjects respond positively to program. Schematics for upgraded Sangheili 'super-soldiers' has already been drafted, and will theoretically be superior to their counter-parts._  
_Motivation Level: Likely Highly Motivated_  
_Subject Estimated Success Ratio: 80%-90%_

_Subject Group Gamma  
_

_Species Common Term: Turian  
Species Scientific Term: Unclassified [See Attached File: System's Alliance Xeno Relations Report]  
Home World: Palavan  
Subject Group Number: 50 Subjects  
Gender Variety:** Y**/N  
_

_General Description: Gamma Group is the Turian Subjects. While most of our understanding from the newly encountered Relay species comes from their own Extronet communications, UNSC Artificial Intelligence have been able to assimilate all medical, historical and social information regarding all species. We have deemed the Turians as acceptable subjects, with a long record of having a proven militaristic nature. all subjects recruited are formerly slaves, both from birth or childhood, they are certainly obedient, and will likely respond well to training. If loyalty can be ensured, the subject group will make excellent backbone of individual squads._

_*Note: Turians are both socially and mentally obedient to superiors, but can also be exceptionally capable leaders. Group Gamma will likely follow behind Alpha in number of appointed squad leaders in the group._

_Planned Upgrades: Likewise, Major Augmentations to create a superior super-soldier variant has been drafted by AI's surveying Turian biology. Efforts to create such modifications have been undertaken allegedly by the Turians themselves in the past, but due to their own primitive medical technology, these efforts have failed._ _We however, will likely succeed._  
_Motivation Level: Moderately Motivated_  
_Subject Estimated Success Ratio: 60%-85%_

_Subject Group Delta  
_

_Species Common Term: Quarian  
Species Scientific Term: Unclassified  
Home World: Rannoch  
Subject Group Number: 50 Subjects  
Gender Variety: **Y**/N_

_General Description: Group Delta is possibly the most risky group. All subjects are also former slaves, though this an undermining considering their poor health. Over the last two months, subjects recruited have undergone various medical treatments to restore them to sufficient health required to undertake the program. In addition, the subject group also has the lowest motivation, the children suffering severe physiological trauma from either separation or prior abuse. Many have undergone memory erasure procedures (Still as dangerous as it was prior in 2517, mind you - Ann), and recovered from said physiological issues, though for them and the others in their Subject group, some trauma still remains. While we have gone to the effort to supply them with newer improved environmental suits than the makeshift ones equipped to them during their slavery, they still are a minor handicap.  
Despite the number of reasons why they do not fit the program parameters, the Vice Admiral has remained insistent on their inclusion, primarily to their very high intelligence, and their usefulness as future infiltrators to get close to the closed Quarian society as well as highly advanced Geth._

_*NOTE: While subjects have received multiple medical upgrades, as well as improved environmental gear, weak immune systems should still be considered. Quarian's are rarely kept as slaves by Terminus Pirates, and young Quarians even rarer. Following the outbreak of a recent Terminus Conflict, subjects should be considered as irreplaceable._  
_**NOTE: After reviewing recently published Extronet documents, the Subject Recruitment and Physiological Review Panel (Panel Member Aliases: Ananke, Melis, Cody, Bern and Hades. Panel Member Serial Numbers withheld), have noted the improvement upon physiological states of Quarian children paired with AI programs (See Attached File: Quarian-Geth relations). Subject Group Delta will most likely lead in number of AI carriers._

_Planned Upgrades: Like many technological fields, Relay Sector's medical technology is significantly in-superior to UNSC technology. Over the course of the Program, subjects will receive_ _upgrades that will decrease dependence on environmental gear. Augmentations will also increase physical capability, which only the Salarians rank lower currently._  
_Motivation Level: Severely Unmotivated_  
_Subject Estimated Success Ratio: 33%-50%_

_Subject Group Epsilon _

_Species Common Term: Human  
Species Scientific Term: Homo-Sapiens  
Home World: Earth  
Subject Group: 20 Subjects  
Gender Variety: **Y**/N_

_General Description: Subject Group Epsilon consists of the twenty Biotic subjects recruited for the are generally, as Human as we can expect them to be. They have all undergone physiological study, and while some are still as mentally resilient as Subject Group Gamma, others have received as such trauma as common amongst Group Delta, and have also been submitted to mental repair procedures. Their Biotic nature makes them both significant assets to the program, and our future efforts to study and understand how Biotic capabilities function._

_*NOTE: From our gathered understanding of Biotics, we know that these abilities vary among subjects. While some may never properly develop abilities that would prove an asset on the battlefield, others may rise beyond expectations._  
_**NOTE: With stolen Biotic Implant tech and our own greater understanding of neurological activity, we may eventually produce superior implants to Council equivalents._

_Planned Upgrades: Epsilon Subjects shall receive improved Spartan III grade Augmentations, as well, as mentioned above, Biotic Implants to further enhance their ability.  
Motivation Level: Varies From Moderately Motivated to Severely Unmotivated  
Subject Estimated Success Ratio: 50%-100%_

_Subject Group Zeta_

_Species Common Term: Salarian  
Species Scientific Term: Unclassified  
Home World: Sur'Kesh  
Subject Group: 15 Subjects  
Gender Variety: Y/**N**  
_

_General Description: The Salarians are a minority group in the program, primarily due to the fact they are physically the weakest among the group, as well as having extremely short lifetimes of forty years. By time other subjects reach adolescence, Salarian subjects will be fully grown. They do have have their advantages however, in higher intellect and reaction time, though this speed is what costs them when it comes to life spans. While this hasn't removed them entirely from selection, considering all factors, this first class will be a testing point to deem whether the trade off is worth it.  
In terms of willingness to undertake the program, we theorize that they would be willing at least, Salarian emotional attachments are exceptionally rare and almost non-existent, even amongst young.  
_

_*NOTE: Zeta Subjects will most likely always excel intellectually than all other subjects. Recommend preemptive drafting of extra curriculum content for Zeta Subjects.  
**NOTE: Subjects within Zeta will prove excellent in the areas of Recon, Marksmen and Technological Specialists.  
***NOTE: Only male subjects appear viable for the role. Females are both extremely difficult to acquire, as well as socially different to more suitable, obedient male mindset in Salarians.  
_

_Planned Upgrades: Biology makes many physical improvements limited in scope. Augmentations will focus in areas to improve already established skill set. Experimentation with creating cybernetic upgrades to prolong short lifespans undertaken, though has a possibility of decreasing their ability as infiltrators.  
Motivation Level: Likely Highly Motivated to Moderately Motivated  
Subject Estimated Success Rate: 75%  
_

_Subject Group Eta  
_

_Species Common Term: Bartarian  
Species Scientific Term: Unclassified  
Home World: Khar'shan  
Subject Group: 15 Subjects  
Gender Variety: Y/**N** _

_General Description: the Bartarians form Subject Group Eta, a minority section. Originally intended as a fifty strong major subject group, social analysis and their current standing point in the galaxy, reduced this to a group of fifteen. While also like the previous four subject groups that they are slaves, ascent from that status is highly appealing to them, and shall prove significant motivation among the Subject group. From current investigations, we deem Bartarians are significantly in-superior to Human subjects, though they have a number of traits such as superior eye-sight as well as natural inherited skills that would make them exceptional infiltrators both in their own species and the rest of the Relay Sectors.  
_

_Planned Upgrades: Bartarian biology is also highly alike to that of Humanity, and will possibly receive Augmentations much alike to those of Subject Group Epsilon if indoctrination into program proceeds well.  
Motivation Level: Highly Motivated  
Subject Estimated Success Rate: 90%-95%_

_Report Concluded  
_

* * *

Shepard didn't believe his eyes. For a second, he blinked, not wanting to even contemplate what he was seeing. He could feel Tali gripping his shoulder tightly.

What they were shown before them was a nightmarish, hellish landscape, every stone scorched black, every last bit of flora burnt to a crisp. Where a river may of first run, now only a tinkle of dirtied water polluted black now flowed by.

"I... I'm sorry for your loss, Captain F'ldia," Shepard finally muttered. His mouth felt dry, even though he was still wearing his helmet.

"...Thank you, Commander," The Quarian Marine Commander noted, "this, is a very sad day for my people. It will also be a very harsh wake up call."

Indeed, it would. By the now dead river, the scattered remains of a settlement still stood, though it looked like the remains would fly off in the harsh wind as if it had never been there. Between the destroyed structures and wrecked vehicles, Shepard could spy blackened bones...

"This... a land assault? This looks like an orbital bombardment!" Tali exclaimed, her voice mired in bitterness. "How could this happen?"

"We wern't prepared for anything like this, that's why..." F'ldia admitted to them. "For the last six years, we assumed that the rest of the galaxy would leave us alone beyond the Perseus Veil, just as they did the Geth. I guess we were wrong."

"I didn't think anything would happen like this," Shepard shook his head. While many would assume there would have been higher security, here of all places, he personally knew from observing the system many times that Rannoch was far more vulnerable than assumed. With the Geth Fleet instead stationed in the nearby Far Rim Cluster, and a majority of the Quarian Fleet dedicated to rebuilding and reconstruction, the now planet based Quarians unable to spare the resources to maintain anything beyond a necessary small fleet of Cruisers. That fleet couldn't watch every inch of space at once, and since the planet didn't even have that great a number of satellites or sensors as of yet.  
Though, never once had he thought someone might see that and exploit it.

"Shocking, I know," F'ldia nodded, "we're still scouring through it all, trying to figure it out. We've uncovered more remains though, not just our dead."

"So... who did this?" Shepard questioned. The only response the Quarian had was to show him what looked like an armor piece, sort of like a chest plate, though it's size and shape didn't look like it would fit anything near Human or even humanoid, though that was probably because of its broken state. The armor was burnt black, and there points in it where Shepard once assumed there were spikes when the armor was in better condition. The armor was wrecked, obviously caught in an incendiary explosion itself.

"We don't recognize this gear ourselves..." F'ldia told him, "though, going to great lengths, we found the information. This armor is Bartarian manufactured, new high end gear used in the Terminus Systems."

"The Terminus?..." Shepard questioned, gritting his teeth.

"Yes, and any surviving pieces don't have any visible color scheme," F'ldia explained. Shepard was well aware of the concept of the Terminus's pirates and mercenaries 'going black' as they called it, painting over all their gear for operations they didn't want traced back to them. "It looked like they didn't want to be traced, but before they departed after the raid, they dropped something."

"Something that could lead us back to them?" Shepard imminently asked. Even if he didn't find out, he'd personally go to Omega and tear through each little faction at a time until he got answers...

"They dropped some kind of box, reinforced with advanced metals just to make sure it survived the incendiary explosive they detonated when they supposedly left. We don't even know what it is yet, though. You'll have to ask Admiral Gerrel when we return."

"Yes..." Shepard nodded. "I will."

* * *

"This attack was the result of exactly what I stated when the number of active ships was reduced," Admiral Han Gerrel shouted, gripping the railing he stood in front of. Before them, the assembled Conclave couldn't even sit, all standing and shouting themselves, Gerrel simply being the loudest voice. "we need to return more ships to orbit!"

"That would not be necessary," the Representative of the Geth, a towering Prime platform answered, "the Geth Fleet could return a detachment to Rannoch. This intrusion exactly is why we hesitated to remove our Fleet from the star system to begin with."

That broke into even more argument. Some thought they needed the Geth's support again. Others didn't exactly want an entire Geth Fleet in orbit. The pointless debate continued, and Shepard gritted his teeth further from just watching. Some people never stopped being beyond stupid.

"Enough!" Shala'Raan demanded, "the Conclave will return to order immediately!"

The crowd slowly grew quieter, though they didn't exactly settle. They had been scared, and were all threatened. They weren't the only ones shocked by this. He still felt Tali beside him, nervously still clutching her own hands. He recalled their return on the Shuttle.

_"Keelah..." was all she could mutter after witnessing the destruction of the Kovoso Settlement. "What..."_

_"I didn't see it coming either..." Shepard admitted.  
_

_"I still can't just believe... why!? What did that accomplish? Why would anyone do such a thing?" Tali questioned, distraught. _

_"I don't know, Tali..." Shepard leaned forward and grasped her hand. "but this won't happen again. I won't let it..."  
_

_"But what if... what if this is our fault?" Tali questioned.  
_

_"Our fault?" Shepard's eyebrow's perked up. Their arrival may of coincided two days after the attack, but it was hardly relevant.  
_

_"If this attack was from Terminus Pirates... raiders. We're attacked them so many times... what if this was pay back?" She questioned, and Shepard's eyes darkened. Yes... that was possible... he didn't give a response, he simply stared at the floor, clenching his fists...  
"No! It's our fault together, not yours alone!" Tali quickly told him, realizing what she was saying, "this... you shouldn't feel guilty about this! Just... please, forgive me for what I said."  
_

_"I..." Shepard stopped, and remained silent for the rest of the trip.  
_

"The admiralty is already considering any possible actions in response to this, but we will not act hastily!"

"Then how do we know something like this won't happen again? We should blockade the Relays now! Stop anyone from coming into the system!" One member of the Conclave demanded, setting off a collective cry of support. Honestly, the same attack would never be carried twice, the first itself a daring and bold move, a second just plain suicidal.

"No further actions will be suggested! The actions of the fleet remain within the jurisdiction of the Admiralty. This meeting is adjourned!" Admiral Raan's voice was straining itself to call over the noise, and eager to end this mess. The Conclave were once again quiet for a moment, murmuring amongst themselves, before reigniting the fires.

"That is not good enough!" One shouted. "Everyone in an entire settlement is murdered; men, woman and children, and your doing nothing about it! We demand that the Admiralty immediately takes action to defend Rannoch!"

"You do not get to make demands of the Admiralty, Repre-"

"Then perhaps it's time for a change, then!"

Shepard groaned, not knowing how longer he could take watching this. All this infighting, inaction, while they were left doing nothing.

"This meeting is concluded!" Raan shouted again. "All representatives will clear the chamber, now! Or be cleared by the guard!"

* * *

They walked through the corridors of the Quarian's central government building, an old pre-Morning War structure that had survived the hundreds of years and the war to retake Rannoch. The building was ancient, and the colorless silver stone that it was carved out of seemed to amplify Shepard's own repression of his emotions.

They were led to the offices of the Admiralty, and stood in a wide meeting room, large enough for the Admiralty of five.

"The politics..." Zaal'Koris muttered, "there's a lot of blood spilled on this, and everyone's now wanting a lot more spilled. It's not like we can invade Omega because of this!"

"Regardless, I do believe a retaliation of some sorts is necessary," Admiral Xen stated. "A strike against any pirate faction neighboring the Perseus Veil could easily appease the Conclave."

"and-"

"That's hardly what we should do," Tali interrupted that line of thought. "Attacking the Terminus Systems won't bring back any of the dead."

"Yes," Admiral Gerrel nodded, "it won't, but what it will do, is stop more from dying!"

"It's-"

"I believe, _Admiral Zorah_, you don't exactly understand the gravity of the situation," Gerrel almost growled in response, "You have never spent more than a month at a time on Rannoch, so how would you know-"

"Enough!" Raan interrupted. "You go too far, Gerrel! All those six years, she has spent working to stop threats like this!"

"Perhaps that's what caused this to begin with," Admiral Gerrel answered, "I told us that we'd only endanger ourselves by allowing Zorah here into talking us into supporting the Alliance's crusades in the Terminus!"

"Gerrel." Shepard finally stepped forward, his voice completely devoid. "Shut up."

"You! How dare you even-"

"No!" Shepard interrupted. "I thought you would have actually learned something, but you're the same blood thirsty dog as always! Maybe you should be quiet and pay some respect."

"This is outrageous!" Gerrel simply shouted. "You have no place to dare even demand anything!"

"But he's right," Admiral Koris interrupted. "We can barely keep Rannoch together, much less fight a war against the Terminus. Going out there hungry for blood won't do us any good and will only place our people further in danger."

"So what?" Gerrel demanded. "We submit and do nothing? If we let these scum get away with this, they'll simply come back again! We need to fight back!"

"That's still the intended plan," Xen calmly stated. "If every in the room would please remember, the means to do so is right in front of us."

Xen tapped the small metal cube sitting in the middle of the them on a podium. Shepard remembered the salvaged box mentioned by Captain F'ldia earlier.

"So just what's in here?" Shepard questioned, looking at the scorched metal box.

"Opening it, reveals a neural interface device of some sort," Xen told him, reaching in and showing him an object...

_A Grey box._

"I recognize it. It's a Grey Box," Shepard spoke, amazed. How exactly did a Grey Box factor into all of this and how and why did Terminus raiders drop one, much less acquire one? Grey Box's were highly illegal memory storage devices only used by top Alliance spies and scientists; and also thieves in one case.

"A Grey Box?" Admiral Raan questioned.

"A sort of encrypted interface, for storing memories," Shepard explained. "I've seen them used before. Used for storing highly valuable information."

"I figured just as much," Xen nodded. "We've already staged attempts to understand it, but it appears this 'grey box' technology is not intended for Quarian use, and therefore we have been unable to understand it."

"Then I'll use it," Shepard instantly agreed. "Grey Boxes are Human technology. I'll be able to understand it."

"Shepard?" Tali whispered to him, unsure of this. There was no way of telling what a Grey Box could contain.  
He ignored her caution however. This Grey Box could be the one thing that could give them a lead. It would help him avenge those hundreds slaughtered... possibly because of him. This was on his shoulders.

Shepard took the interface from Xen, and already began connecting it to his head. He'd helped Kasumi utilize her own Grey Box and he understand just how the interface worked.

"I'll activate the box," Xen told him. "if you are able to understand any of it, it would be a great assistance."

"They have encryption, as well, don't they?" Tali questioned. "Will you be able to use it?"

"Our only chance rests with me able to do so," Shepard answered, equipping the last of the interface, "Seeing as they left it, I doubt they put a password on it. I'll do my best."

"I'll activate it now then," Xen tapped into the console in front of her, and the interface powered up... Shepard opened his eyes and found himself standing over an endless ocean.

_He turned, looking for anything, something to show that he'd indeed been able to access the Grey Box correctly. He stared off into the endless distance, wondering if this was what he was supposed to be seeing, or perhaps that the Grey Box wasn't decrypted. Shepard suddenly recognized the familiarity of this place... a voice, a horrible voice, finally manifested.  
_

_"If you have found this message, then you now know of the demise of your pitiful settlement..."_

_Everything around him changed. Now he was standing in the midst of the destroyed Quarian settlement of Kovoso... ashes swirled around him, and he was standing amongst dozens of corpses of innocents.  
_

_"Know this is only the beginning," the voice announced and Shepard couldn't bear to place it.  
_

_Leviathan.  
_

_"Know that we shall no longer, shall our kind wage war against the lesser races from the cowardice of the shadows. This is an open declaration of war, between my kind; the apex race, and you disgusting rabble. Soon, our thralls shall come to destroy your pathetic planet, and your machines."  
_

_Shepard saw now ranks of mercenary soldiers, marching in perfectly straight lines over the battered and destroyed landscape. They wore the armor of the Blue Suns, with an Omega Station insignia on their arms.  
_

_"No..." Shepard shook his head, and upon his words, his memories rearranged the landscape around him to take him deep under the seas, and back into Leviathan's lair. The massive titanic creature rose before him, prodigy of the Reaper's aloof creators. It's giant eyes stared him down.  
"Whatever your planning... I'll stop both you and your thralls!" Shepard shouted at the Leviathan.  
_

_"Your resistance is futile," what he was facing wasn't the real Leviathan or anything with contact to him. The Grey Box only had a packaged message, a memory to plant in the minds of all who witnessed it.  
"now, we shall complete the extermination of the machines, and restore order to the galaxy. Submit now, and we may spare your species so that you may better further our righteous cause."  
_

_"I'll stop you..." Shepard muttered to himself, trying to believe that he could.  
_

_"The Darkness Grows..."_

He opened his eyes again, and he was standing where he was before. Still sitting where they were, the four Quarian Admiral's still waited for him to return his findings. Tali gripped his shoulder.

"So... what did you see?" Tali spoke softly.

"That we have only one option left to us: go to war."

* * *

**Author's Afterward:**

**I was pleasantly surprised from the response to the publication of the first chapter, and I carefully read through all the reviews and messages. When I published the first chapter, I honestly didn't exactly know every last bit of how the story would play out. I wanted to leave room for some suggestions from readers, since it always helps.  
**

**Though, after reading through the many suggestions, I think I picked up a good idea of what's wanted in future chapters. I've now drafted a story outline, and decided to start with a three-part Prologue series. **

**Leviathan made sense to become an antagonist (For the Prologue at least..).  
Why the Leviathans wage war and not just take the easier route in launching more mind control balls? That shall soon be sorted out in Part III of the Prologue, which I have already typed up, for release in a couple of days time (I don't want to leave you waiting long).  
**

**If you have any questions, suggestions, or feedback, just drop a review.**


	3. Prologue III: Motives Above Scrutiny

**Prologue Part III: Motives Above Scrutiny  
**

* * *

_**"They understood the universe in ways we never will. We can't unlock their secrets—but now, apparently, we can destroy all they ever made. That's what I call progress." - Didact**_

* * *

The fires were so close that Shepard could feel the unbearable heat through his helmet, sweat rolling down his forehead. He raised his M-8 Assault Rifle and fired it at his nearest target as he charged out of the flaming building. The shots smashed through the Bartarian's shields and his own Phaeston Assault Rifle was fired off into the air as he fell.

His allies continued to follow him, a mismatched militia of Loyalist Terminus Forces. In Omega's dark skies, fires burned from nearly every district. Shepard's heart was pumping and he was full of adrenaline. For the first time in six years, he was on a major battlefield.

"Commander! Gunships incoming!" A Bartarian mercenary shouted to him. Shepard saw them. A squadron of three Gunships soared over the burning streets in front of them, coming around as they were spotted.

"They're coming for us! Scatter and find cover!" Shepard shouted, and they broke apart as chain-gun riddled the metal streets. Almost half of the Loyalist troops following him were cut down as the Gunships passed over. A nearby warehouse exploded into a fireball as a Gunship launched its rockets.

"Dammit! Stay down!" Shepard instructed, pressing himself against a wall as gunshots flied past. The gunfire ended, though he could hear the Gunship's engines growing louder "They're coming around to drop troopers!"

Blue Suns mercenaries rappelled down into the streets, assault rifles blazing. The Leviathan enthralled mercenaries hit hard and ruthlessly, and the strategy seemed to work, quickly butchering the remnants of their militia. One of the Gunship's overhead took a rocket to it's back fin, sending it swiveling out of control and crashing into the urban Omega below.

Shepard still had his Assault Rifle raised, and opened fire at a group of Blue Suns coming around the corner. His Tech Armor starved off their return fire, long enough for him to unleash a wave of Biotic energy and send the group on a collision course for a nearby brick wall.

It was hell, pure chaotic warfare. They had been fighting like this for five days, ever since Shepard had brought the Normandy to Omega along with an allied fleet of Quarians and Geth. After tense negotiation, Aria T'loak eventually allowed them to hit the mercenary factions responsible; while still not buying the story that they had been enthralled by aquatic alien squids, had given her support. It was a good thing Shepard had already saved this station once before from Cerberus and Reapers, because nobody else in the galaxy would have been able to call a favor like that.  
As for the Leviathan's forces, they consisted of a number of mercenary factions, primarily the Blue Suns and several lesser factions that they were united with.

He had first expected a swift strike, a quick apprehension of the Sun's local leadership and a breakdown of their organization here on Omega soon after. The galactic wide Blue Suns Organization had already disavowed their Omega Division, trying to distance themselves from their indoctrinated counterpart as quickly as possible.  
What originally had been a one day operation, got drawn out when the Leviathan's forces practically began waging an open war on the rest of Omega. The head of the local division, a Blue Sun's Commander by the name of Ajax Suleiman, had practically disappeared from plain sight. Hastily after the attacks on the neighboring districts, Aria had called the remaining factions of Omega together to dispose of the attacking rogue Suns; thus the 'Loyalist' army.

"This is Shepard! We've drawn the Gunships out! Initiate the next phase!" Shepard called into his Comm. The remaining Blue Sun's air fleet was right above them now, the entire unit focused on repelling the Eclipse and Blood Pact factions in their joint assault.

Geth Frigates from long range, on the less dense rim of Omega's umbrella, began hyper-accurate GUARDIAN defense battery bombardment. The hailstorm of pin-point shots blasted every hostile aircraft out of the sky. With their air support in fiery wrecks, the Suns mercenaries glared nervously to the skies before an order was given out to fall back to more fortified strongholds. Shepard was keen not to give them the chance.

He swung himself around the corner, his M-8 Avenger bringing down two of the closest Turian mercenaries. His OMNI Tool unleashed an overload of electricity, which stunned the entire squad he was facing. After that, he unleashed a Shock Wave of kinetic energy which sent the Suns flying back. He swiftly moved forward and began to fire off a burst of Assault Rifle fire into the fallen Blue Suns.

"Wait! Please!" one of the wounded Blue Suns raised his bloodied hands in surrender, "don't kill me! We're only following orders..."

Shepard paused for a moment of hesitation, but eventually decided to go through with it anyway. 'only following orders', wasn't an excuse. It was all too easy to imagine them as the pirate scum that had burnt Mindoir, raided ships, or assaulted Rannoch. For such crimes, they deserved no mercy.  
As the man screamed, Shepard raised his Avenger and fired a burst that silenced it.

"Keep moving deeper," Shepard spoke into his Comm as further allied Eclipse mercenaries moved by, supported by Mechs. While still the same level of scum as the Suns, he was hesitatingly forced to accept again, that they were on his side. The Eclipse didn't respond well to the Sun's attack on their territory.

_"Shepard-Commander. Recent Intel acquisition points to nearby Blue Sun's stronghold, hidden under a nearby structure. We've detected thirteen life signs within," _a voice that could only be a Geth called over a Comm channel to him. Of all the people of the galaxy, Shepard had a high appreciation of the Geth. While they had been hesitant at first to join with the Quarians again at first, insisting they were 'no longer tools of war for the creators', when Shepard had revealed the Leviathan's involvement, they had willingly joined the cause. The collective consensus of the Geth understood the severity of the situation.

"Can you mark it for me?" Shepard asked.

_"Uploading coordinates to your system's... complete." _The Geth; or rather the collective intelligence of an entire Frigate's worth of Geth, responded. Shepard saw the location of the Blue Sun's stronghold at least eight hundred meters south of him. _"We are dispatching additional infantry to assist."_

"Roger, that," Shepard nodded. He could already see on of the Geth Frigate's moving deeper into Omega's structure, piloting itself carefully closer to the station to launch mobile combat platforms to the warring districts below.

Shepard turned, and motioned for the nearby militia; various recruited citizens of Omega who had been forced into the fight by the Leviathan's thralls assaults, to follow him. The Blue Suns underneath must have been panicking, because now their hidden under surface facility was now completely located in uncontested Blood Pact turf.

The structure it was located under had been completely flattened, though Geth platforms soon arrived to dig through to very thick and heavily sealed bunker doors. A Geth Destroyer Platform used a plasma cutter to break the seam, before reaching in and tearing the doors outward. The second it did, it's shields flared as the Suns within made a desperate stand.

"This is a bunker! Control your shots! We may be able to capture important personnel!" Shepard shouted as a squad of Geth Troopers began to move into the bunker, their Pulse Rifles eliminating the defenders effectively. Shepard himself marched down in there, following the Geth. The enthralled troops fought well, but they were quickly pushed back and trapped in the small bunker complex.

"Shepard-Commander. We read two remaining life signs in the next room," a Geth Trooper reported as they moved to the door. "We theorize the next room is a commander center. Possible presence of command personnel are high."

"Noted. Go non-lethal. We need information from someone down here," Shepard nodded. He slammed himself into the door, flinging it wide open.

All that stood before him was a shocked Blue Sun's mercenary, which he instantly crashed into and sent tumbling to the floor. Shepard had seen enough Blue Suns over his lifetime to know their ranking codes, and he spotted the imagine which designated the man as an operations commander.

"You!" He reached down and grabbed the merc's neck with one hand. He knelled down on the fallen man, pointing the Predator Pistol in his other hand at his face. "You'll answer my questions!"

"Yes!" the merc spluttered, choking. "Whatever you ask!"

"Who's controlling this operation! Who's your leader?" Shepard questioned as a squad of Geth Troopers stood behind him, exchanging strange scratching noises that he recognized as their communications working at maximum speed, used only for communicating with other platforms at close proximity.

"Ajax Suleiman! Don't you already know that?" The Sun's mercenary shouted at him.

"I didn't mean Ajax. Does he have any sort of artifact, anything strange about him?" Shepard demanded to know.

"Artifact? I don't know what you're talking about!" he denied any knowledge.

"I'll ask-"

"Do not bother yourself with him, Commander." A voice suddenly announced, and the Geth exchanged a quick chatter of cries as they searched for the source.

From a concealed doorway, a man in Sun's armor walked towards him. Shepard recognized him from the reports, the one they were searching for.  
"Ajax Suleiman," Shepard took his foot of his prisoner and turned to face the Blue Sun's commander and chief on Omega.

"Yes, his mind is mine now... my kin speak highly of you, Commander Shepard," Ajax announced, and with a chill, Shepard knew he wasn't speaking to a mere mercenary. He was possessed by a Leviathan. It's voice was far softer than the one he knew however, less booming. It was another individual entirely.

"Then you'll know that your campaign is over! Once were done with Omega, we'll go back to your little ocean world and finish what the Reaper's started!" Shepard announced, staring at the Leviathan. He tapped his helmet, wondering if the camera he installed within was operating. This time, he'd have more than solid evidence.

"We have already long departed upon a raft of corpses," the Leviathan mocked. "if we wished to conquer your kind, we would do so without a single shot fired. This conflict on this station, was instigated for the single purpose of advancing our cause."

"Yea, your not big fans of Synthetics, I get it." Shepard grumbled. "How did attacking the Quarian's get what you wanted? Why indoctrinate mercenaries and attack at all?"

"You can not comprehend the majesty of our great plans for the galaxy," it continued, sounding very much alike to its creations, "we did not begin this conflict, but we controlled it to take it to a route we deemed acceptable, to better safeguard the future of all, as is the role of our Mantle. You have done exactly as we wanted you to do. This war is now over."

"You don't just get to decide that!" Shepard shouted at the possessed thrall. "You've started this war, but we'll finish it! I swear I will not stop until you pay for all the lives you've taken."

"Then prepare to spend the next centuries chasing an enemy that does not show itself, Commander." Leviathan answered. "Your war is with the Blue Suns and their allies, not our kind. My kin deliberately choose the Grey Box as the format of our message to you, knowing you would be the one; the great Commander Shepard, who would open it when the Quarian's couldn't. We purposely fabricated our claims of open war, knowing your primitive species would easily be driven to it. Everything you have done, has been to our benefit, and thus the benefit of the Mantle."

"I... don't believe you," Shepard told the thrall. "Why? What does this gain you?"

"Once again, you only ask questions we have already answered. We are the apex race, the rightful bearers of our predecessors Mantle. It is our duty to safeguard the galaxy, to protect the lesser races from themselves. We are not your enemies, Commander. We only now seek to shepherd the younger races, to atone for our failures. "

"Safeguard the galaxy?" Shepard questioned. "This... forget this. All you do is speak nonsense and hypocrisy! You're killing organics, not saving them!"

"Then this meeting is at an end. _The darkness shifts, Commander, for where it once was before, it is no longer._"

Following that, the Leviathan's thrall simply lost consciousness and tumbled to the floor. Ajax now probably had the mental state of a vegetable, along with probably every other Blue Sun on Omega who could have given further answers.

Shepard holstered his pistol, turning and leaving.

* * *

"This was hardly an ideal conclusion, Shepard," Aria T'loak told him, glaring with complete disdain. "I should have never allowed you to step foot on my station to begin with. You started a damn war that set this place on fire all over again!"

"It was necessary, Aria. Those Blue Suns were indoctrinated, and this wouldn't have ended any other way," Shepard argued. "We've practically crushed them now. The Leviathans have withdrawn from their thralls and the remaining troops are surrendering."

"I don't buy that 'Leviathan' nonsense, honestly," Aria answered. "it just doesn't make any sense."

"I know," Shepard agreed. "But taking action was better than letting this continue to run out of control."

"Yea, well, it's several more gangs that won't be paying tribute anytime soon," Aria frowned, placing a glass back on the table in front of her. "It will be hell just getting this whole station back in order, and they'll be more hell when the Blue Suns try to muscle back into their old turf. A small territory shift is a problem, an all out war that see's the third largest holder evicted in a week is a catastrophe. If you do remember from six or seven years ago now, what happens when all the rabble group together, don't you?"

"Eclipse and Blood Pact won't have the manpower to hold their captured territories. Minor gangs will probably fill the gap," Shepard reasoned.

"It's a good thing you've already saved this station once before, Shepard," Aria replied bluntly. "So now, consider yourself and Omega even. Now, can you tell your _esteemed _Admiral Zorah to take your ships and troops, and get the hell off my station immediately."

* * *

"Shepard, I've informed the Council of your conclusion to the Omega Campaign," Liara told him as he stepped into the Normandy's communication center. The Shadow Broker's hologram floated before him. "To say they're relieved that we're pulling out of the Terminus Systems, would be a very big understatement. I believe you've told the Quarians not to go through with bombarding the Leviathan's planet from orbit?"

"They're not on Desponia anymore, Liara," Shepard told her. "The Leviathans moved out apparently. We might send a few scouts anyway. I don't exactly see how they all could have escaped that place."

"I wouldn't speculate what they're capable of," Liara answered, "if possible, we need to be able to track their movements, find their lairs."

"I don't..." Shepard placed his hand over his own mouth, contemplating before removing it, "I think this war is over, Liara. The Leviathans told me that they aren't interested in it, funnily enough, that destroying the Blue Suns on Omega was somehow part of a grander master plan to save the galaxy."

"That..." Liara shook her head, "is honestly the most strangest thing I've heard in a while... while your wording of their motives may not exactly be specific, do you really think that they meant it?"

"Honestly... I don't know. They spoke of some obligation, to safeguard the galaxy from chaos, that they'd inherited; a Mantle. They still seemed like they hadn't changed since I first encountered them on Desponia. I told them that I'd pursue them for what they did... they seemed confident nobody would find them for centuries to come," Shepard admitted.

"Well, that may just be true. If they've retreated to a whole new lair, then we'll probably never find a way to track them down to one ocean in the many billions across this galaxy," Liara commented. "Though, I'd like to know more about this Mantle. Maybe it has something to do with the Cycles."

"Maybe it's just more manipulation," Shepard responded, "I don't know what to believe anymore. For the whole last week, I've been swept off my feet... so much for my vacation."

"I'll go through your camera footage, watch it myself," Liara told him. "If the Leviathans is trying to throw us off their trail, we may need to give pursuit, but once again, we might just not be able to do so. Right now, you should really talk to the Council. They've been hammering to see you ever since Quarian ships showed up in the Omega Nebula. You know, they could revoke your Spectre status for this."

"Noted," Shepard sighed. The last thing he needed now was to face the Council over this. He needed his evidence ready to present. They still had the Grey Box and they still had his recording of the Leviathan speaking. It would be good enough, good enough to get them all off the hook for what happened on Omega but... that was all it could do really. If the Leviathans kept laying low, then there was nothing that he could ever do to find them.  
"More importantly, I want to know their motives. Indoctrinating a Blue Sun's division and unleashing death and destruction at random just to get it destroyed doesn't seem like protecting the galaxy.

"Are... you all right?" Liara questioned.

"Honestly... far from it," Shepard admitted. "I know I acted hastily, got even more people killed... and I did exactly what the Leviathans wanted."

"I doubt that's true," Liara reassured him. "While they may be masters of plotting, I doubt they ever desired the destruction of thralls. Bluffing is simply another part of deception."

"Yea, but that still doesn't change what happened. This all happened because of me, because the Leviathan's wanted to provoke me into a conflict for their own interests..." He shook his head. "Sometimes, I think it would be better if I disappeared forever."

"That's far from true."

"Yea, well... every once and while, I feel that way..." Shepard answered. "I want you to keep digging through the Leviathan footage, see what you can find out. I want to know what they're up to."

Whatever it was, Shepard swore he'd find out.

* * *

_Communique 4488373JK1  
Classification Level: Psi _

_Sender: Vice Admiral Ned Rich  
Location: UNSC Point Of No Return, Coordinates Classified.  
_

_Receiver: Admiral Margaret Parangosky  
Location: __Specific Location Classified, Sydney, Australia, Earth_  


_Margaret,  
_

_I'd like to correct some misconceptions about the incident involving the Engehios colony. While it was true, that the Kig-Yar mercenaries were in fact recruited through Agent Thompson, we never did plan an attack on Engehios colony and starting a full scale war between the Elites and Jackals. Nothing of the sort.  
_

_I admit, we should have been more prepared for an event such as this. A large sum of resources was offered up to the Kig-Yar, in exchange for the subjects. Nobody with the exception of the Kig-Yar Ship Mistress knew of this deal. The Kig-Yar were insistent that she also be provided with the S__anghelios Republic's fleet movements, in order to locate civilian ships that could be targeted in order to extract subjects with minimal fuss. After consulting with Rear Admiral Curtyn, we decided to provide the Kig-Yar with that resource.  
We did not expect, that they would share this Intel with the Brute rebels still fighting the Republic, to co-opt a raid on a Sangheili colony world. It was a completely unexpected turn of events. While it is true, we were partially responsible for this, it was never and far from, our intended outcome. The Kig-Yar leader had motives beyond the acquisition of payment, in specifically striking against the Sangheili._  


___In response, we had our operatives eliminate the Kig-Yar flagship, and the Ship Mistress, as well as extract the subjects. With her death and the destruction of that ship, does all evidence that could us to the Engehios raid perish. While the conflict now triggered is hardly beneficial to the UNSC, we must be thankful that it didn't turn out worse.  
_

___I respect your decisions in response to this incident, though you should be aware of the true nature of the conflict.  
_

___Yours truly, Vice Admiral Ned Rich_

* * *

The corridors of the lower labs would have been eerily small to some, but to Halsey, the lower containment area reminded her of her laboratory back on Reach, in Castle Base under an entire mountain. While such secrecy wasn't required on a Shield World, the security it assured was a far better advantage.

"Tell me, Ann, who are the adoptive parents?" Halsey questioned as she walked through an automated security checkpoint.

"What makes you think they have adoptive parents?" Ananke lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, they can't have spent six years in test tubes, and a child who spends their first six years devoid of any contact would definitely not have a mental state even close to what's required," Halsey commented. Ananke nodded, perhaps impressed by the conclusion.

"You may be correct in one regard, that they definitely received parenting, but they actually haven't seen the world since they were 'born', technically," Ananke told her.

"Hmm... virtual intelligence landscape then?" Halsey assumed, "I certainly hoped you've perfected that, because that can also be as damaging to the mind as six years of constant solitude."

"Your assumptions are rather accurate, Doctor," Ananke acknowledged. "Since they've been of infant stage, we have been raising them through a artificial simulation run by a series of my sister AI's here at this facility. Our latest technology is far more advanced than any latest ONI setup you would have seen during the Covenant War. The latest virtual simulations have actually been upgraded and improved through reverse engineered Forerunner tech."

"Now that is interesting," Halsey nodded. "But if we were to pull them out of the simulations, how much would they notice the difference?"

"ONI has possessed picture perfect simulation technology for years now, Doctor. Even our most basic combat simulators for Operatives have no discernible difference to the real world as we know it. Since a child's mind is hardly aware as an adult, I do believe that they'd completely miss any of the noticeable faults in the simulation world."

"What an age we live in," Halsey muttered, "now I can have lingering paranoia that I'm still on some distant space station being tested for our I would really react to undertaking another Spartan Program..."

"If so, I would put in a good word for you, Doctor," Ananke gave a grin to that comment, as they finally entered the containment area. There were pods assembled in lines of ten, with five rows. This was their fifty clones then.

"So, I assume they're all totally medically stable?" Halsey asked, approaching the nearest containment pod. Inside, a completely dark haired boy of six years of age lay staring back at her; eyes darting side to side, but perhaps totally unaware of her presence. He looked far more stronger, far more fit than a child who's literally never taken a step in their life should be.

"Medically stable, completely," Ananke confirmed with a nod. "in addition to being perfect creations, they have also received genetic engineering since growth began, numerous upgrades that your Spartan II's initially received. This makes a Argumentation stage later in life redundant with the exception of installing neural interfaces and certain enhancing upgrades."

"I'm more interested currently in the upgrades going on in there," Halsey pointed towards the head. "Ann, what exactly goes on in the virtual simulation?"

"Simulated childhood, really," Ananke told her. "The network is made up of ten smart AI's like myself, except totally dedicated to the simulation. Sometimes, I enter the simulation as well to undertake weekly development reports.  
While not exactly a normal upbringing, the AI's inside there do act as parents to the children, and are charged with instilling the correct attitudes in them. As far as my recent reports go, I believe that the network has taught them exceptionally well. Next week when we begin the program, I do believe they will take to it far more capably than any other subject type, and probably dominate when it comes to selection of squad leaders."

"Natural Spartans indeed, Ann..." Halsey took her gaze away from the containment pod, slightly and secretly on the inside, distributed by the process. "Mind telling me what's with the twitching?"

"The simulation breaks the UNSC Artificial Interactions Code, by connecting the full entity of their brain to the simulation. The database available can simulate up to two hundred thousand different 'feelings' from touching any object from rocks to water across any part of the body. It also simulates pain, necessary as it is for their development. The... effects you are witnessing, are the results of a programming update we required. Early in the simulation, we did not realize that they can also dream in their sleep, that neural activity carried on into the simulation, and the AI's continued with their programming and simulated all the following stimuli... the result was far from pleasing, and a few had to undergo targeted memory loss to repair their mental states," Ananke admitted.  
"Now, there are filters for such things, these twitches, the result of actions being actually sent into the body rather than into the simulation's input devices."

"That is quite disturbing," Halsey commented, gazing into another containment pod, which contained a girl with hazel colored hair and shimmering blue eyes, which were darting side to side as if running scared, her mind tormented. She suspected there was a side to this simulated upbringing that Ananke wasn't divulging. "Though I assume it's sufficient preparation for the program."

"In eight hours, surgery will begin to remove the Simulation's connection to their minds and bodies, and readjust them to their proper neural network. In a week, they will be fully recovered and ready for program initiation," Ananke confirmed. Halsey continued to observe the subject before her, wondering just who's genetics had been used for these clones.

"That's good, Ann..." Halsey nodded and took a step back. She decided that was enough, and turned to leave. "I do believe were ready."

* * *

"The war on Omega was a travesty!" The Turian Councillor shouted, tightening his grip on the podium in front of him. "Of all people, we should have known beforehand what you and your allies intended to do!"

"There wasn't time for it, Councillor," Shepard answered, standing on the petitioner's podium in the Citadel Council Chambers. "And if I had informed you, you all would have only slowed me down. Action had to be taken, and I did that."

"This situation could have been a whole lot worse if you didn't have the backing of T'loak, Shepard," The Asari Councillor told him calmly, "though, with Rannoch's forces withdrawn, I do believe that we should call and end to this conflict. Thus far, the Suns have at least been accepting of the purge of their Omega division, and they have maintained that the indoctrinated Suleiman acting on his own in the raid on Rannoch , but this situation is still delicate."

"More indoctrinated forces could still-"

"Our fleets are stretched thin as it is, Shepard," the Salarian Councillor cut him off, "while we do acknowledge the threat that the Leviathan's pose, there is simply nothing we can do about it now. If they show themselves in the future, then perhaps we can replicate the feat that led you to them to begin with, but for now, they haven't shown themselves and we have no way of tracking them."

"Honestly, this could have been a thousand times worse if the Leviathan's really did mean to wage galactic war," The Turian shook his head. "The fallout of this conflict will be felt for further decades to come! As illegitimate as it is, the largest trading port in the Terminus Systems has been decimated, we have the Quarian's and Geth militarizing, and more conflict after this between the Terminus factions is now inevitable. Despite what you believe, after reviewing the reports, this Council has come to a different conclusion," the Councillor told him.

"It is the decision of this Council, that as punishment for instigating this unnecessary flash conflict, and aiding non-Council factions without any prior warning, that we revoke your Spectre status," The Asari Councillor announced, leaving Shepard stunned.

"This..." Shepard shook his head, "this is a mistake! I saved this-"

"We are well aware of your achievements, Shepard," the Salarian Councillor told him, "but honestly, your time has passed. You went too far on Omega. Your personal crusade against raiders in the Traverse and Terminus, has gone on long enough. Your... ruthlessness has not gone unnoticed. Currently, you take away more stability that you provide."

"Will your Spectre status revoked, I must also inform you that the SR2 Normandy is no longer a Council Ship, and therefore it's armaments and equipment are illegal under the Council Civilian Vessels Act of 1876. It will be seized by the Systems Alliance, possibly to be released to you following a disarming of its more unnecessary weaponry or kept until you can comply," the new Systems Alliance Councillor told him; Dominic Osoba, too ashamed to look at him directly as he read out what was necessary. "I'm sorry, Commander, but with your Spectre Status, you are also discharged; honorably, from the Alliance."

"I... I know you'll all regret this," Shepard protested. "I did what was absolutely necessary."

"This decision was hardly easy for us, Shepard," The Asari Councillor admitted. "But also absolutely necessary. This meeting of the Council is adjourned."

The Council stepped down from their podiums and silently left the Chambers. Shepard remained still, gripping the railing on the petitioner's platform...

He didn't even know what to think. His Spectre status... revoked for good. The Normandy heading for either a permanent place in dry dock, or the complete removal of everything that made it capable. His Alliance ranking... no longer a Commander.

As he walked down the steps from the platform, descending down the tiers, groups of various diplomats and some old faces watched him go.

"Gah!" Urdnot'Krin; the Krogen Confederation Ambassador, grabbed his shoulder as he passed, "it's a sad day when these fools toss perfectly good warriors to the dust, Shepard. Know that Urdnot'Wrex, and the Krogan Confederation as a whole, still remember your greatness."

"Thanks..." Shepard nodded to the Krogen.

"The Collective was not if favor of your decommissioning, Shepard-Commander," A Geth Platform, a diplomat stationed to the Citadel, also stated. "Though it was not regrettably the decision of our consensus."

He didn't say anything further as he passed through, though one Turian was sure not to let him leave without a goodbye.

"Damn, Shepard," Spectre Vakarian shook his head, "the Council revoking your Spectre Status..."

"I understand, Garrus," Shepard admitted. "I did what I had to do, and paid the price."

"Don't you worry, I won't let your work go to waste..." Garrus told him. "If only all Spectres could learn from your example."

"Hah," Shepard gave a small bitter laugh, "if that was so, every last Spectre would be AWOL right now. Better than you play by the more civilized rules, for the more civilized time this is..."

"The Reapers may be gone, but the galaxy still is a damn hostile place," Garrus didn't agree. "You'll be missed, Shepard."

"Thanks, Garrus," Shepard nodded. "All I can hope is that you'll pick up the torch, right?"

"I'll do us both proud..." Garrus told him, "Goodbye, Shepard. I doubt this be the last time we meet, but take care of yourself out there."

"I'll see you around, Garrus..." Shepard grimly told him as he turned away and walked down the final flight of stairs...

* * *

"Keelah, Shepard..." Tali muttered, running up and throwing her arms around him. "The Council is mad! They're really going to revoke your Spectre Status over the fact that you saved us all?"

"It's already done, Tali..." Shepard told her. "The attack on the Leviathan's indoctrinated Sun's was too costly, and the fact I left them in the dark about it just made things worse. I'm no longer a Commander, and I'm no longer allowed to fly the Normandy as it is today."

"It doesn't matter," Tali reassured him, "you had to give this up, one day... we can go back to Rannoch. Most people think your still a hero for leading the counter-attack on Omega. We can finally be together in peace..."

"You may be right..." Shepard nodded. As much as he wanted to just leave this place... he knew what needed to be done. "But I've got some things to see to first."

"Oh?" The Quarian questioned, "like what?"

"I need to see Ann Bryson, bring the remaining intact Leviathan artifact out of storage," Shepard answered. Perhaps, the artifact could reveal something to him, or Leviathan could contact him again, giving him some trace...

"Then we should go see Bryson, right?" she asked.

"That's the thing... you should head back to Rannoch. You'll be needed there, trust me." Shepard told her.

"What? You want me to go all the way back to Rannoch, without you?" She questioned, startled. "Shepard, we-"

"I know," he grasped her shoulder, "you'll be needed there for the time being. I need to get in touch with Admiral Hackett, sort something out."

"Shepard, you promised me," Tali told him. "No more hiding from it. I've waited so long for us to finally just have some measure of peace... when your done with the artifact, you'll come straight back to Rannoch?"

"I promise," Shepard told her, drawing her close and standing face to face with her. He could see beyond her tinted visor, her eyes staring back at him, concerned. "I'll see you soon, Tali."

"I'll see you soon, Shepard..." Tali felt him let go of her hands, giving her a final embrace, before turning and walking back down the corridor, shoving his hands into his pockets as he disappearing back into the Citadel. She shed a single tear.

That was the last time she saw the man she knew as Shepard.

* * *

Doctor Halsey cleared her throat for a third time in the last five minutes. She continuously brushed her hand through her completely greyed hair, waiting.

_"As project head, you'll be in charge of every decision regarding the program's training undertaking. You know just what to do."_

Rich just had to give this role to her. It was just a way of saying: get yourself together and your guilt buried.

She looked down at clipboard in front of her, holding good old fashion paper instead of a computer tablet or a newer holographic data pad. There were three pieces, even though only half a sheet contained the information relevant. All it was, was a copy of her original speech given on the initiation of the Spartan II Program.

_"Do you know why I never lied to the candidates, Rich? I could have spun any number of lies to motivate them, to make them thankful of their place, but I didn't. I told them the truth, because in order to ensure their complete loyalty, I knew I couldn't lie to them."_

She finally found the momentum to step forward into view, though unlike all those decades before, she didn't dare to meet any of their eyes. She marched silently to the podium and placed the sheets of paper down. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to the amphitheater in front of her. Behind every subject that sat before her, stood a handler holding a stun baton, though it was hardly necessary, all of them obedient enough.

_"You have been called upon to serve_..."

She stood straight, and stared directly into the crowd. She spied the clone subjects easily enough, her still sharp eyes picking out the dark haired boy and hazel haired girl from her tour in the containment labs a week ago. They all led the front row, fifty of them, sitting completely quietly and obediently, each one of them watching on without any sign of emotion. If only that could be said for those subjects behind them.

"You have been called upon to serve..." she began without stutter.

_"you will be trained... and you will become the best we can make of yo_u"

"You shall be trained, becoming the very best we can make of you," she told them all, straightening up a few subjects with interest. Others were bowing their heads though, a few tears shed amongst the Biotic's. The Turians, young with rather more jaggeder, less uniform spikes along their heads than their adult equivalents, sat completely silently as well, listening. The Sangheili were also silent, though many appeared to be in some form of shock than recognition. Halsey couldn't read the emotions of those they called Quarians, their faces hidden behind various masks, though from the sad looks of their shining eyes and from the sound of it, they may all just be crying or sniffling.

_"You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies..."_

Halsey slightly bowed her head back to the papers in front of her, before resuming.

"You shall become the guardians of our peoples, and all their worlds," that was the line that always guaranteed to carry much weight with candidates, as many more's attention were captured.  
"The road to this will be long, as will it be hard," Halsey told them. "Each and everyone of you shall be called upon to make sacrifices, however small or however large. From this point forward, you shall train, learn, and become stronger, to become the Spartans that is required of each and everyone of you."

She couldn't judge their reaction to all of that, but she left it there. With a nod, she motioned for the guards to clear the amphitheater. Indeed, it would be a hard road, and likewise with the II Program, some might not just survive.

* * *

**Author's Afterward:**

**Published now, only half an hour after the last chapter, because I knew that the second part of the Prologue couldn't stand on its own without part III.  
**

**This is the end of the Prologue Arc. Yes, that thing with Shepard walking away was quite ominous. Act I will begin from here, as will the larger extent of the story.  
**

**Yes, the Leviathan's also are believers in the Mantle. I came up with the idea, and it didn't seem that far from them. Their true motives for starting the conflict? That's definitely a larger mystery.  
**


	4. Act I:I Snake Eyes

**_Act I: Insurrection_**

* * *

**_Chapter I: Snake Eyes_**

* * *

**_"Do not fear the weapon but the person who wields it" - Javik_**

* * *

_Letter to Project Supervisor,_

_Scan and Archive Date: 7th June, 2569_  
_Document_ _Archivist_: _MIL AI 8275 [Alias: Ananke]_  
_Local Classification: Encrypted_

_Dear Catherine_

_I received word from Ananke that only yesterday night did you initiate the program. I viewed the event, and I must say that I am most pleased with the successful initiation of all two hundred and fifty subjects into the program. I know you'll have your hands full in for the next few weeks handling the quite difficult integration of the subjects, but that's why the Office created Ananke for the program. Combined with the rest of the V Network, I doubt there's anything she isn't capable of._

_In another matter, I have decided to approve your request to have all records surrounding the Spartan II Program returned to you, and have returned your access to the ONI general database. I'd keep it out of sight, if I was you, Catherine.  
While Margaret didn't ever say anything about this, we both know that she'd probably do more than just frown upon it. While the rumors are true, that the Admiral has indeed fallen ill and probably isn't even monitoring anything as of now, fear keeps the ranks in line. If anyone has any assumptions that we did this under the radar, a reckoning could be far worse than the usual._

_While I do respect your dedication to the program and to pass on some of the expertise employed in its predecessors, be aware that doing so has risks. On the new system since your imprisonment, all documents surrounding the Spartan II Program have been moved up to Psi Level Classification. Even I haven't laid eyes on them, so I hope you know what you're doing._

_Sincerely, Vice Admiral Ned Rich_

_*0700 Hrs post archiving, AI MIL 8256 attempted to access and forward document to unknown location.*  
**Following breach in security, AI MIL 8256 [Alias: Hades], was immediately forced in idle status, pending investigation.**  
***Location of attempted delivery traced: UNSC Port Stanley***  
****Document now undergoing deletion in 0001...****_

* * *

As shrapnel cluttered the air, he breathed hard, raising his M7 Silenced Sub-Machine Gun and fired out accurate bursts through the carnage.

Screams responded, soldiers in grey uniforms dropping amidst the whirling of dusty smoke and crossfire. Isaiah; G214, could see through it all, his VISR Mode sweeping through the entirety of the ruined bunker.

_"Check fire! Watch out for priority targets!"_

He straightened up his aim, his SPI Armor replacing his own vision of the world with a tiny microscopic camera on the top of his weapon that served as a scope. He saw from the gun's prospective as it burped out bullets in timed intervals, each tearing into the flesh of a plain uniformed Insurrectionist Soldiers.

On his flank, his fellow Spartan III's began to push forward, though none were as furious as those to the right of his squad, the infamous Team Saber.

_"G009! You're pushing them leftward and out of the bunker! Hold your ground!" _the commanding officer of the operation yelled to them over their Comm yet again. On his Heads Up Display, Isaiah could see his teammates blink their status lights orange twice. Despite being knee deep in innies and under heavy fire, even he felt the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes at that. Team Scimitar didn't hold much regards for those specific comrades.

While Scimitar stood at range, Isaiah own team bringing down the demoralized and heavily outgunned Insurrectionist troopers, Saber's three man team was in far to close and were spooking the innies into retreat. Fire Team Chakram was forced to follow up behind Saber, giving them reluctant fire support.

_"Target has left the bunker! The objective is on the run. Teams Scimitar, Saber, target objective immediately now! Abandon your current engagement and focus on taking down the target."_

It wasn't like they weren't doing that already. Saber had forced the objective out of the bunker and probably into a vehicle. Those status lights blinked orange twice again. His heads up display returned to his helmet, and he saw outlined through the smoke, three bodyguards pushing their charge out a hidden secondary exit from the underground bunker to somewhere up in the top side base. They'd ruined their chance to pin them against the wall and now they had to catch their prey.

"Get on them now, Scimitar!" he shouted into his Comm, reloading his M7 as he kicked back a wounded Insurrectionist in his path. Saber was already moving far faster than them, the team already out of the breached bunker, clambering back out of the shattered concrete which their explosives had blown upon earlier. Isaiah had other ideas, following the target directly down his secret passageway.

The bodyguards tried to seal the hidden walls behind them, but the full weight of a Spartan III in SPI Mark IV Armor simply barged them right down as he didn't give up his chase. His team of four formed up behind him, Scimitar moving fast.

As they came charging out of the vehicle bay, his team mate G182; Christen, activated a hard light shield to protect them all from the damage of an incoming grenade launched at them. The fragmentation grenade exploded on the protective barrier, but it was giving the elite Insurrectionist Spec-Ops the time they needed to place the target aboard an armored personnel carrier. The modified and heavily armored M12 Troop Transport rolled out of the vehicle bay and onto the dusty roads. Anything they could get rolling followed, a rag-tag convoy of ATV's and Warthogs carrying a wide range of armaments, including one with a modified chassis to incorporate a Covie Fuel Rod AA canon in place of its main gun.

"Command, do you read me? Targets have left the base! They're mobile in vehicles, over!" Isaiah shouted into his comm.

_"Roger, Scimitar. Air support is on its way," _he received in reply. No. Air Support would not help one bit, especially with all those Warthogs.

"That's a negative, Command! Too many AA's are surrounding the target! Hold off air support!" He advised as Scimitar neutralized the last few Insurrectionists left behind in the vehicle bay. He spotted two remaining Warthogs still sitting in the vehicle bay.  
"We'll mount up! Pursue the target!"

_"Okay, roger that, Scimitar. Take them down. Losing the target is not an option."_

"Roger, that," he nodded. "This is Scimitar out."

"Orders are to pursue?" G329; David questioned as he climbed behind the wheel of the first Warthog in line as Isaiah clambered onto the gun. Jenifer mounted up in the passenger seat, holding a DMR.

"Positive," Isaiah nodded, and the Warthog was already in full throttle, driving out of the vehicle bay onto the dusty makeshift roads that surrounded the Insurrectionist compound. As he glanced back, he saw that the vehicle bay has also be covered previously be a fake wall that served as a door, exactly why their recon hadn't spotted it earlier. He could still hear a dying firefight from inside the compound, the three others teams on the mission probably finishing off the last of the stragglers.

They were speeding down one the main roadways the insurgents had paved, dust billowing out behind all their vehicles. The size of the convoy around the target made it impossible to miss. That size would also be a major impairment to their speed, as they had to keep formation and protect the priority.

"We're gaining on them! Be prepared to open up on those escorts!" Isaiah shouted into the Comm, and he began to squeeze the trigger, warming up the M41 LAAG on his Warthog. The second Warthog was on their right flank, Christen gunning with G053; Merrick, driving.

The Insurrectionists swiveled their guns around as they saw the two Warthogs manned by Spartans approach. A rocket was launched from one of the Warthogs in their convoy, and both drivers in Scimitar Team easily swerved to avoid it. Isaiah unleashed the mounted gun, opening fire on the nearest opposing jeep.

An elite trooper's shields flared before he screamed as his shield generator overloaded, the gunner tumbling off his warthog as bullets cut through his flesh. The driver got hit next, the Warthog tumbling over onto its side, leaving the passenger to be thrown out onto the open road.

_"All teams be advised. Insurrectionist Air Support is inbound," _their commander informed them, her voice sounding grim, a very bad sign. The veteran Spartan II rarely was intimidated by any odds, though this mission was certainly not going to plan.

"Watch out for any fliers!" Isaiah advised, finding his next target and opening fire on the next vehicle, a heavily armored warthog that shielded those manning it from oncoming fire. However, the make shift armor plating would probably be no match for the LAAG's 7x99 armor penetrating rounds. Combining fire with his teammate on the second Warthog, they quickly dispatched of it.

The convoy began to shift their focus on them, with the ATV's and additional hogs pulling back to deal with them. That Fuel Rod Warthog seemed to have disappeared from the pack, and Isaiah was wary of its return.

Isaiah kept their guns focused on the bigger targets of the armored warthogs. Jenifer easily dealt with the ATV's by firing off bursts of DMR fire to take out their drivers. Unlike the average Insurrectionist trooper, they had shielding as well as automatic target assistance to make Scimitar's already formidable accuracy capable of not even missing a shot.

David kept having to throw the Warthog from side to side of the road, as the Insurrectionists tried to slow them down simply by filling the air with oncoming fire and rockets. Isaiah kept on his own targets, taking down Warthog after Warthog of unshielded crew.

"We're near the target!" Merrick shouted into their Comm. They only had three Warthogs between themselves and the APC now. The target was finally within reach.

"Don't lose him now!" Isaiah told them. "Ignore the remaining hogs. Hit the objective now. Target the wheels."

"Roger, boss," Christan responded, firing his own mounted gun low at the APC's wheels. The tires were reinforced, but they still easily were shredded upon the LAAG's armor piercing fire. The APC swerved, but as testament to the driver's skill, the vehicle kept on the road instead of crashing into those deep storm-water ditches that lined both sides of the roadway.

"Hey! Watch out! Those fliers are inbound!" Jenifer warned, pointing upward to the sky. Three AV-14's; Hornets, were almost overhead. Isaiah immediately turned his gun upwards on the Hornets, opening fire on the light aircraft. The bullets only chipped the vehicle's light armor, and Isaiah spotted shielding flash to protect those standing on the landing skids.

The Hornets didn't initiate any attack just yet, positioning themselves above the Warthog that Merrick and Christan manned.

"Shake it now," Isaiah commanded, "whatever it's planning, it ain't good!"

"I know," Merrick replied, the Warthog beginning to swerve side to side to try and escape the Hornet's shadow. The two wing mates flanking the hornet in center, broke off and began targeting them. The twin linked rotary canons opened fire on their own Warthog and Isaiah's own shielding flared. Those canons pushed his shielding down to only a tenth in a few seconds.

Before it could smash through and pierce his armor however, the two Hornets exploded in a splash of green. The Fuel Rod Warthog from before had returned, with definitely a change of sides.

The Hornet flying center waited no longer. Isaiah saw something, more someone, leap off the landing skids. Before his mind could think of how suicidal that trooper was, or maybe that he had been shot off, he saw the armor that the attacker was wearing and what he was about to do...

He knew by time he shouted it into his Comm, it would already be too late. Christen looked up to see it too. He raised his arm and activated his Hard Light Shield, a barrier over their Warthog; though Isiah knew it wouldn't be enough. Unlike a Hard Light Shield System which could only take so much pounding before overloading the system, Armor Lock was a more powerful force.

The Warthog exploded into a rain of fiery debris. Isaiah couldn't take his stare away from it. His HUD still highlighted his team mates as they were flung from the wreckage, Christen being thrown onto the road but Merrick not so lucky. Now the wounded gunner landed far back from where the wreckage came to lay, sprawling over the dusty road.

He stared into the burning remains of the vehicle, his eyes wide with shock. In just that: Seconds. That was all it took for him to lose his team mate, a fellow member of Scimitar, one that he had trained alongside since the age of six. In seconds, he might just lose another.

His VISR colored the outline of their attacker emerging from the burning jeep. It was a damned snake...

"The objective is ahead!" Jen announced, reminding him to look back forward. "Looks like Saber's taking it down."

That was certainly true. The Warthog that Saber commandeered now smashed itself into the side of the target APC. With its wheels already busted, the M12 APC's driver could do nothing to save it. The vehicle flipped onto its side, stopping it in its tracks.

"Saber has got the objective. Boss, should we turn back and assist Chris?" David questioned, keen to not leave a squad mate to die. Isaiah watched as he saw the three members of Saber Team climb out of their own Warthog and surround the downed APC. Yea, they had the objective secured alright, but it was Scimitar's immediate objective too.  
Then there was Chris... probably still lying downed on the road behind them, bleeding out or being finished off...

"You two head back and assist 182. I'll assist Saber," Isaiah told them, and the Warthog skidded to a stop. He leaped off the gun and onto the road, quickly sprinting to close in on the objective. David was already turning the Warthog around to go back.

Saber had surrounded the Warthog, their leader G099; Ash, ordering his two team members Oliva and Mark to open the APC's back hatch. The three Spartans seemed to be going in pretty quick for a very delicate situation. They needed the target inside alive.

By time Isaiah was standing by them, Mark had already stepped forward to grab the door and pull it open. As he tore the hatch off, it detonated outward, obviously rigged from the beginning. As their team mate fell, both remaining two members of Saber responded violently. They both fired off their weapons into the passenger compartment of the APC without any qualms.

"What the hell are you doing!?" By time Isaiah shouted that, it was too late to stop anything. While Oliva had been firing accurate DMR bursts, Ash had simply sprayed with his MA5B, butchering all those inside... including their target.

"Responding to the threat," Ash simply growled in response as he stepped inside the compartment and seized the rim of the officer's uniform around his neck, dragging the man out. Isaiah could hear him groan, signs that their objective wasn't dead yet. Oliva didn't even assist; too busy aiding the downed Mark, who looked like he had some shrapnel pierce his armor.

Ash dragged the URF Officer out without pause, simply tossing him to the ground. Isaiah could see two bullet wounds in the man's right arm, bleeding heavily. Hell, he could probably bleed out.

Isaiah knelled down beside him, putting all other thoughts aside as he ejected the can of Bio-Foam from his own armor's supplies and jammed the nozzle into the wounds. Their target cursed as he injected the freezing foam into him, the foam now already drying quick and stopping the bleeding; their main concern. They'd have to get the target patched up fast if they were going to get anything out of him.

"Target is secured," Isaiah reported into their Comm Channel. "But has two bullet wounds. He'll need attention immediately."

_"There are two, bullet wounds? I expected better, Scimitar. We are in route to you now..."_

Isaiah grunted, standing back up to his feet and glaring over as Ash. Yes, the fault for Saber's blood thirty methods was now pinned on him. Ash didn't even look back. As the two wounded drivers tried to crawl away unnoticed from the wreckage, Ash casually strolled over and put each one of them down with a burst of rifle fire.

_"Hey Boss! We got Chris, but that guy is right on our tail! Lead him away or come back?" _Jen called into the Comm.

"Don't take him on alone. Head back our way. Reinforcements are inbound," Isaiah advised.

_"Roger. Heading back now..."_

Isaiah looked back up to Ash, who was standing in front of him now.

"Something we should know?" his fellow Spartan III questioned, his tone always giving away his hostility.

"The rest of my squad is heading back here, and they'll be bringing company," Isaiah told him. Ash snorted.

"That figures. It's definitely like Scimitar to run away from a fight," Saber Team's leader sneered. Thank god nobody could see past his visor, because that really did make him clench his teeth as well almost clench his fists and hit the disrespectful piece of shit in the face, but he knew never to show that. He kept his calm.  
He glanced back, hearing the Warthog's engine rumbling in the distance, but figuring it wasn't close enough yet.

"How about you show some respect? I just lost a Spartan back there!" Isaiah called back just as Ash almost turned away.

"Well, people die. Get used to it," he responded. How usual of him, still acting like they were trainees on Onyx. Even then, he wasn't this much of a hot headed fool. Saber Team's leader turned away, simply marching off. Oliva watched him go, before turning back.

"Hey, whoever it was, Isaac... I'm sorry," Oliva commented.

"Thanks..." Isaiah nodded, turning back around as the Warthog came into sight now, tearing around the corner towards where the last battered remnants of the convoy lay. He could see Jen using the LAAG Canon on their pursuers... or rather: single pursuer, riding a salvaged ATV.

"A snake, huh?" Mark commented, making use of the Spartan III's nickname for rogue members. Of course, these rogue Spartans were of the IV Program, and thankfully by now, ONI had abandoned all presumptions that the Spartan III's could be deployed alongside the IV's and expected to work efficiently together.  
"Makes sense for one of the traitors to be here."

"Well, he is sure to be outgunned," Ash murmured as he hopped back out of the APC wreckage, carrying a few weapons under his arm. He simply flung them to the ground in front of them. It was quite a nice assembly. The two weapons were a M45 Tactical Shotgun and a M739 Light Machine Gun. The Shotgun and SAW were some of the newer models, postwar unlike most of the URF's equipment. It made sense too that their supposed top troopers would get anything near modern.  
"I shouldn't even need to say it. Focus fire on em."

Isaiah readied his own weapon, activating his scope as the rogue Spartan came into range around the wreckage's. So far, that guy had actually done decently well at avoiding the heavier, slower LAAG canon on the back of the Warthog, but he couldn't dodge bullets. Isaiah opened fired with his M7 SMG.

The Spartan's FOTUS variant MJOLNIR Armor went ablaze as its shielding popped into place. The Spartan IV bailed from the ATV, rolling into cover behind one of the crashed insurgent manned Warthogs. Just his presence was enough to rally some surviving URF troopers who were laying low in the wrecks to crawl out and join the fight.

The rest of Scimitar finally reached them, David slamming down on the brakes to stop them nearby. Isaiah could see Christen lying in the passenger seat, his armor damaged, but he was alive. Jen swiveled around the LAAG canon, firing it on the nearby URF troops.

"He's good for now, but he'll need a medic," David reported, drawing out his own MA5K Carbine. They could hear shouting from down the roadway, the URF troops rallying and pressing forward, but their Spartan stayed back. "Boss... that snake is tough. Using a discontinued armor aug."

Isaiah remembered the Spartan IV Armor Locking. The ability to so in MJOLNIR armor was supposedly discontinued, with it damaging the armor's systems and gel layer over time. ONI removed the tech, citing how much it was costing them to repair or replace gear damaged due to Armor Locking.  
Though, it wasn't like the URF cared about that though, nor their rogue.

"Oliva, grab him and get him out of the way," Ash instructed, waving for her to drag away their target. Oliva grabbed their prisoner and dragged him behind the wrecked APC. If the Rebel troopers couldn't rescue him, they might just as well shoot him.

The six Spartan III's stood their ground, taking cover and otherwise engaging in a not that drastic firefight with incoming rebel troopers. Their shielding units protected them from most of their fire, and the limited units that the URF's Spec-Ops troopers appeared to be equipped with seemed only to have the shielding strength of a quarter of their own.

_"Be advised, Scimitar, we've been engaged by additional URF Air Forces. Possible ETA is eight minutes. Hang in there, additional squads is being sent your way," _they were advised. Guess they had to hold their ground for a while longer.

Though, now that Spartan IV was on the move. Leaping out from behind cover, the rogue Spartan charged towards them. They all immediately turned their fire on him as he charged through open ground. As soon as the bullets struck, Isaiah saw him waver... and disappear. Dammit. All that time that guy spent supposedly hiding under the wrecks, he was swapping his Armor Modules for a holographic decoy.

"Stay sharp! He's still out there!" Isaiah shouted out, scanning for any signs of their opponent. They abandoned the Warthog as troopers began pitch fragmentation grenades at them, the grenadiers trying to force them to fall back into the open from their cover behind the wrecked vehicles.

His shields flared as he was caught in the blast of one of the grenades. He raised his rifle back up and shot the thrower, a URF Grenadier that got far too close.

Their Spartan reappeared, the IV now charging across open ground amongst the URF infantry. Jen fired off a round of DMR bursts, eliminating another hologram. A few seconds later, another one appeared, still moving across open ground.

"We can't keep wasting ammo on holograms!" David shouted, firing off his Carbine to take the decoy down. Another leaped over the wreck, charging across open ground. No way could that rogue IV have recharged his gear that quick.

"There he is! Take him down!" Isaiah shouted and pointed at the Spartan in red FOTUS armor charging towards them. This time the bullets hit something real, the Spartan's shields flaring as Oliva opened fire with the Light Machine Gun, the SAW chewing through the shields.

The rogue Spartan rolled into cover behind one of the crashed Hornets, recharging his shields no doubt. Isaiah primed his own grenade and chucked it towards the Hornet, the downed flier exploding. The rogue was still standing, but that explosion probably took his shields down. Mark fired his Battle Rifle, landing bursts through the flaming wreckage on the Spartan IV.

His bullets sliced through another hologram. He was cowering somewhere else.

A majority of the URF troopers had fallen by now, or decided now was a good time to fall back and live to fight another day. The rebels always never had to stomach to stand their ground. That Spartan kept coming however. It was because he was now right on top of them.

Dropping down from the top of downed APC, the Spartan IV landed right in the midst of the two squads. Before even their heightened reaction times could bring about their response, the rogue activated some device that spewed electricity over all of them, overloading and frying their shielding units. With all of them stunned, the IV combat rolled clear, raising his own Assault Rifle; a weapon that Isaiah himself couldn't recognize. And it spat fire.

Jen fell first. Her SPI Armor was ignited by the hailstorm of incendiary that rogue Spartan unleashed on them all. The rest didn't get hit that bad before the rogue Spartan's weapon actually overheated; refusing to fire, though David was staggering back, his own armor on fire covered in a strange flaming substance, almost sand like.

They all turned their fire on the Spartan IV. Isaiah raised his SMG and unleashed the whole clip into him. The rogue Spartan's shields collapsed under the heavy fire, before the bullets breached his armor. Bleeding heavily, their attacker collapsed to the ground. Ash advanced towards him and fired his Shotgun into the fallen corpse, just to make sure.

Isaiah instantly turned back around to his fallen squad members. David had managed to brush off the flaming substance, thankfully not anything sticky, though from the grains of flaming particles the size of sand, it certainly wasn't anything they'd seen before. His armor was burnt in some places, but he was alive.

Jen however... he knelled by her side.

"Jen? Jen?" Isaiah questioned. After seconds of no response, he unsealed her helmet and pulled it off. Eyes were open, but not moving...

"Some of those rounds must have pierced the armor, and then got inside... nasty stuff," David spoke at a whisper, glaring down at their fallen comrade. A single mission and that was all it took to reduce Scimitar; a team of five that had stood together for twenty two years now, to only three.

Saber Team simply stood by, standing on watch. Ash stood by the rogue Spartan's corpse, studying his equipment. He pulled that weapon the IV had been using, and looked at it. Even from where he was standing, Isaiah could see it was something built for Human use but certainly wasn't UNSC equipment, far too sleek.

As Mark stood back up and looked back to the APC, an explosion suddenly went off behind it.

"Aw... crap! He's dead!"

That hardly needed confirming. A Fragmentation grenade detonated, and it had most certainly claimed the life of their objective. Mark looked down at the blasted remains and scowled.

"Did he drop it?" Oliva questioned, motioning back to the fallen rogue Spartan.

"Nah handed it to him, just in case. Guess he had the guts to use it..." Mark reported, sighing. "The objective is lost."

"Maybe if someone kept an eye on him..." Ash growled, shaking his head. Nobody bothered to respond. Isaiah simply called it in.

"Commander, the target is dead. Repeat... target is KIA," he announced.

_"KIA Scimitar One? What happened?"_

"During the attack, he managed to get his hands on a Frag grenade... pulled the pin and blew himself up when he knew he wasn't going to escape," Isiah explained, before adding: "My team lost two Spartan's, ma'am, to a rogue four. We've got another injured."

The commander simply sighed, a rare emotion.

_"We're coming to you now. Gather the dead and prepare for extraction," _the commander told them, before the Comm communication ended.

They stood on that roadway for four more minutes in absolute silence, with no further enemy forces, or even other Gamma Company squad for that matter, appeared. They eventually went back to the wreckage and retrieved Merrick's body, placing it with Jen's. They were just another squad with casualties. Maybe the commander would force Saber and Scimitar into a single team just to return them to full strength, and also as punishment for their failures.

UNSC Falcons now flew overhead, circling around the fallen URF Compound before coming back their way. Isaiah could spot the leading Falcon now descending towards their location.

It touched down not far from the wrecked APC. Another stayed on over watch overhead, though it wasn't likely at all that any URF forces hadn't retreated by now.

The second it landed, the Commander stepped off, surveying the remains of the battle as well as the two squads present. They all saluted.

"At ease, all of you..." Spartan II, 087, commanded. They all dropped their arms. "Just who exactly did we lose?"

"G053 and G199. G182 is wounded," Isaiah reported grimly.

"Remembering the dead can wait," a voice behind the Commander told them. Isaiah remembered him from the briefing. An ONI Agent: Ben Harrison.  
"Are you sure that Admiral Barris is dead?" The ONI agent questioned, almost outraged by the entire course of events.

"Yes, sir," Isaiah was once again forced to admit, his fellow squad leader certainly not speaking up. "The target committed suicide with an explosive device to evade capture."

"Dammit! Do you know how important that man is, soldier?" the ONI agent questioned, stepping forward beyond the Commander. "That man was the last of the ruling three! You've undermined this entire operation with your failure!"

"If you have issues with those under my command, _sir_, you should voice them to me," the Commander stated, stepping past the ONI agent and back into his field of view, "as is protocol."

"Indeed I shall." The ONI agent simply sneered, turning back around to the Falcon. The Commander turned back and looked at them, glaring with disapproval. For a moment, Isaiah wished she'd been wearing her helmet and not having to bear putting up with the shame now placed upon them.

He glanced in the direction of Team Saber, noticing that their team leader hadn't even shifted.

_Yea, act like you don't even care._ _You're already the shame of the entire Company._

"All of you," the Commander simply told them. "Load up onto the Falcons now, and grab the traitor's corpse, as well. We're lifting out of here."

* * *

Kelly was thankful that Agent Harrison had chosen to voice his disgust in their failure by remaining silent for the entire trip back to their base of operations; the Navy ship UNSC _Head of Thorns. _She had enough to deal with already with having another failed operation of her hands.

For the second time this year alone; it was only July, Saber Team had jumped the gun. On Tarsis IX, it was simply breaking from formation that didn't have that in much of consequences, but this was too far and it had cost them one of the most important operation's they had ever been tasked with, bringing down the last surviving member of the URF's top three, their political leader assassinated before the Covenant War even began, their General; Greeves, personally killed by a Blue Team op on Victoria and now their Admiral was dead, even though ONI badly wanted him alive.

ONI would have a fit over this, but it wasn't like they could actually do anything to punish them, short of sending them on a suicide mission. If there any example of Spartans having their moral zapped, it was Gamma Company. Since the Covenant War, they'd bounced between operations involving battering the rebel worlds that had cut ties with the UNSC following the war, back into submission.  
It was understandable. They had been recruited initially in their desire to kill covies, something they never actually got to do. Since the Spartan III's never even got any training in counter-insurgency as the Spartan II's originally were, they were practically useless in a majority of deployments, only used by ONI in the most severe situations where there was open conflict between UNSC security forces and rebels.

It was an entire decade ago now, that Captain Osman had approached her with offer of promotion to Lieutenant Commander and a placement as commanding officer of Gamma Company. Moving the old timers to senior positions, as Frederic put it, though not counting time spent in Cyro sleep, she was probably only in her early forties now. Unlike the remaining Spartan II's, the III's were still functioning as they did before.  
Since the war, Gamma Company had simply then operated under whatever commander was charge of the operation they were assigned to, though ONI knew that in order to operate away from command, Gamma Company needed an experienced CO that both could command their respect and "understood Gamma Company's unique nature".  
At the time, she hadn't had any doubts about accepting the position. Knowing the Spartan III's from the battle for Onyx, especially Team Saber, she knew that the Spartans that Kurt and Mendez trained were definitely worthy of the Spartan designation.

_Damn... I wish you were here now, Kurt. You'd know how to get this Company back on track._

Kurt had been one of the more sociable Spartan II's, as far as that went, and had been the perfect choice for ONI when the head of the Spartan III Program had selected a Spartan II to train the next generation. Kurt knew Gamma Company better than anyone, and he knew how to lead. If only he had survived the war...

Now, she had spent a decade commanding an entire company that had certainly changed since the Covenant War. Past their sense of duty, they felt no motivation to combat the Insurrection, and most of their 'augmentations' had turned mostly a majority of the company's members blood thirsty, despite the medication used to ward off those specific side effects.  
Again, she had expected Gamma to be exactly what Kurt described on Onyx as the 'finest company of Spartans he'd ever trained', but now they were far from it. Now monumentally overshadowed by ONI's new Spartan IV Program, all that the Spartan III's were now were ONI's box of expendable lunatic soldiers with a civilian causality rate that Kelly would have thought only an entire brigade's worth of artillery out of their minds could achieve.

After a year, she'd basically left any attempts to change that behind. There really wasn't much anybody could do, only complying with ONI's orders, slapping a rifle in their hands and telling them to complete the objective. There were still a few good teams, like Scimitar; who managed to contain any excessive aggression from the side effects of their augmentations, which knew how to get the job done. Though, unfortunately, they were a minority now.  
They weren't the kids were an eagerness to please their predecessors she saw on Onyx anymore. Anything short of going back into battle against the now non-existent Covenant would get Gamma Company motivated again, however briefly. She had to admit she had lost respect for a majority of Gamma's squads over the course of their campaigns to combat the Insurrection.

Their Falcons lifted into the skies now, making rendezvous with the in-atmosphere Frigate Crown of Thorns. The silence continued as the Falcons flied up into the Frigate's hangers. Slowly, the hum of the Falcon's engines decreased as the rotors ceased motion as the Falcon lay to rest.

Stepping up from his heat at the opposite end of the Falcon, Agent Harrison gave her one final comment.

"Beta Five will hear of this failure, Lieutenant Commander," Harrison warned, "combined with the numerous less than positive reports of your command, I'd say that your remaining time as Commander of Gamma Company, as well as maybe even this entire division itself, has its days numbered."

Without further words, the ONI Agent was marching off. Kelly arched an eyebrow at that. Even in the state they were in now, even the Spartan III's weren't an asset than ONI could just cast away.

_Maybe better you put your operations in the hands of your glorified Hell-jumpers next time, spook._

Finally standing up from the Falcon, she stepped down into the hanger, the five squads that had participated in the operation waiting to be dismissed. Overall now, they were two good Spartans less. Now that the adrenaline and the mission itself was over, Scimitar's remaining standing two members looked beyond grim.  
Kelly surveyed the row of Spartans, seeing similar body language mirrored throughout all of them.

"Squads, you are dismissed until further debriefing in 0600 hrs," she notified them and they cleared away. The impact of failing a mission of such scale would probably diminish Gamma's already decimated morale. She watched all of them depart the hanger, one by one. Her gaze stopped on Team Saber.

_I gave you one more chance today, and you screwed it up. If Kurt was here, he'd be ashamed of you._

Bitterness was hardly an overstatement when it came to her judgements about Saber. Once, Saber had been amongst the top three teams amongst the entire Company back on Onyx, and had fought well alongside Blue Team during the battle for Onyx. Kurt had once told them that Ash was one of the company's smartest and best leaders. So now? A lot had changed.

_"No, honestly, I've always wanted to know what my former teammates think about my Spartans. Speak your mind, Kelly," Kurt told her. Kelly shifted her eyes back to the two Spartan III's far behind him, knelling beside an unconscious Halsey. They didn't have their helmets on, and Kelly could see that one was male and other female. They worked with each other as they attended to the Doctor's not so serious injuries from their landing on Onyx earlier._

_"That's other than jumpy?" Kelly questioned._

_"Yea, other than that," Kurt smiled, though slightly unnerved by that commented for a second, "Everyone's just a bit nervous right now, that's all."_

_"Some are close knit... maybe a bit too close knit," she commented. Kurt raised an eyebrow at that._

_"Like you and John?"_

_"No... That was different."_

_"Was it?" Kurt questioned, raising a slight smile._

_"That's not the point."_

_"Maybe it is," Kurt summarized. "I honestly don't see a problem, do you?"_

_"It just makes it harder when they fall. Losing another at such an age..."_

_"We lost half our number during the Augmentations way before then," Kurt noted, "we carried on, because that's what we do."_

_"But they're not us, Kurt," Kelly noted._

_"No..." Kurt seemed caught up in thought on that. "Maybe they're not..."_

Kelly sighed, knowing that more names would have to be removed from the roaster quite soon.

As he pressed ahead and passed by a leaving Ash, Isaiah grabbed something out of his hands. Ash glared up at him, slightly enraged; maybe his augmentations setting off his enhanced aggression yet again. He cooled it though, walking onward.

"Ma'am," Isaiah addressed her, bringing forth the item, "we recovered this from that fallen rouge IV soldier. It's salvaged unknown tech."

She was generally surprised at that. They hadn't ever declared, or even needed, to salvage alien tech since the Covenant War, now that ONI had almost every bit of Covenant and even Forerunner tech at their fingertips. This was an unknown weapon? Insurrectionists had black market and modified stuff, but never their own unique weapon set.

"Unknown?" She reached forward and took the rifle out of Isaiah's hands. It was cleaner and smoother than a UNSC rifle, though lacking a scope. It had a single grip for the trigger, but surprisingly the clip was loaded behind that... and the clip _glowed_.

"It was loaded with some kind of incendiary ammo I've never seen before, like each shot fired was made of burning sand," Isaiah explained. "Those shots still had enough strength to punch through Jen's armor though..."

"That's certainly interesting..." Kelly studied the weapon, noting the lack of a scope, though she doubted the Assault Rifle needed one. As irresponsible and against protocol as it was, she felt a slight urge to fire the weapon out of the Crown of Thorn's hanger bay, just to witness how it worked. If what he was saying was true, then this weapon was probably prototype tech; exclusive to the Spartan IV Program seeing how one of their many traitors got a hold of it.  
"Could be prototype ONI tech," she told him, "though even if it isn't, I'll show this to Agent Harrison anyway. Good work, squad leader," she nodded, taking the weapon. Hopefully it was ONI's stolen prototype, or the Insurrectionists had somehow excelled them in weapons science while the UNSC's backs were turned.

* * *

"The salvage of this weapon, Lieutenant Commander, could have changed everything as we know it," Agent Harrison placed the alien Assault Rifle back into the protective case he supplied, slamming it closed. This reaction was far better than when he first learned of it. Kelly had never known ONI spooks to go out of their minds like that.  
"Thankfully however, our AI's have identified it as one stolen from us. The situation may just be under control."

That was great and all, but she had no idea of what the Agent was talking about.

"That's good to hear, sir," she nodded.

"Indeed, 087," Harrison replied, preferring the numerical designation. "With this, we may have just gained something very small out of this catastrophe. While your here... I do believe there is something else you should know."

"Like what, sir?"

"I have received word from Vice Admiral Rich, which CINCONI has approved of the dismantlement and termination of the remaining Spartan III operators," Agent Harrison announced. He had warned her of it a day ago, but... it felt like an empty threat. ONI seriously couldn't be considering scrapping the last few real Spartans they had?  
"That also means that from henceforward, your position as head of Gamma Company is revoked and you shall be reassigned, commander," Harrison continued on.

"Sir... what does ONI plan to do with the remaining Spartan III's?"Kelly questioned. It wasn't like they could just tell them to leave.

"We have long debated that, considered it... and have come to the conclusion that the only option left to us is terminate the company fully. You must understand," Harrison told her, "we tried to adapt them into the Spartan IV Program, but that failed. We tried to make the remains of this program efficient and worth the effort invested into it. We even recruited you, but alike to all measures before, you failed to salvage this endeavor. With a new program initiated; training real Spartans mind you, we can't spare the finances anymore to fund their significant upkeep and with those illegal Augmentations... I'm afraid ONI simply can't let them go."

She didn't respond, too shocked processing that information. It was... terrifying.

"We'll keep the Headhunters, and the best units we separated from the main unit, but the main mess that is Gamma Company must unfortunately be cleared aside," Harrison nodded, "CINCONI has approved it, and there is furthermore nothing we can do."

"Sir... this is a mistake," Kelly finally responded, "For over a decade, we've been fighting to keep the UNSC intact."

"What Gamma Company has been doing over the last decade, is spreading only terror and fear among the dissident colonies," Harrison shook his head. "I've personally reviewed each and every report. When your company gets out of control, innocent civilians die. Not just possible threats, but anybody in their path. You must understand that today, not one person down on those colonies would think Spartans are heroes anymore, Commander. The Spartan III's were meant for one thing, and that is to wage war on the Covenant. Now, there is no Covenant and no reason for them to be."

"I..." she couldn't bear to say it, but it was necessary, "understand what you're saying, sir."

"That's good, because this information is confidential. I advise you begin preparing to leave your post, Commander," Harrison told her. For a moment, she felt like that would be the moment to leave, to escape this. But now was not the time for any cowardice.

"Sir, I do believe that this decision may have been made hastily," she protested, "surely, there must be some mission to which Gamma Company will be of use to you."

"Maybe so, now..." Harrison shrugged, "but honestly, as yesterday's operation has shown, ONI can't trust them to carry out any mission anymore."

"You know how close we were, sir," she pointed out, "the fact that Barris killed himself rather than be captured was hardly the fault of our teams on the ground. Despite all they faced, they secured the objective. We should have one more chance, even if it's a suicide mission. I know every Spartan in the company would rather die on the field of battle rather than... be made redundant."

"If you did get your final mission, Commander, would you make sure it is successfully completed?" Harrison questioned.

"Even if I have to suit up and finish it myself, sir, I swear it would be done," Kelly nodded.

"Then, I may contact Beta Five; request that you undertake one more operation under my command..." Harrison agreed, lifting her hopes slightly. He glanced back to the holding case. "The emergence of this weapon in URF hands has given us one piece of critical Intel: we know where the agent who stole it went. Perhaps this will be a one more mission suitable for Gamma Company... one that needs no survivors."

* * *

**Author's Afterward:**

**Okay, that Chapter was written exclusively from the prospective of the Haloverse, but it was necessary to open an entirely new plot thread. I have kind of adopted the method of writing common amongst the Halo novels, which simply does one prospective per chapter with only a few exceptions.**

**For next chapter, I'm going to do something completely from the Mass Effect's universe point of view. I know this is a cross over and people want to see crosses... but I really want to keep to pacing the story instead of throwing it into the deep end. Doing a easy to follow model in a cycle will probably make this easier to read and write: 1st chapter from Halo prospective, 2nd from Mass Effect, 3rd from Spartan V which really blurs the line in the obvious cross over, then go back to Halo prospective. That should work for Section I until things get interesting.**

**In case you didn't notice (not that it's even noticeable to begin with), the mystery weapon as an Avenger M-8 with incendiary rounds...**

**_PS: Finally a Chapter headed with a ME quote. Quotes from Mass Effect that are relevant are quite few and far between actually._**


	5. Act I:II Passing Into Memory

**_Chapter II: Passing Into Memory_**

* * *

**_"The peaceful one is at war without and within." —The Mantle, Fifth Permutation of the Didact's Number_**

* * *

The world around him was cold, freezing. Unlike his earlier experience, he knew that now he could really feel his surroundings when pulled into the Leviathan's dream scape, fully under the artifact's power.

"We must admit, we were surprised when you returned," a voice behind him announced, and Shepard spun around to see the fake Doctor Garnau they encountered on that asteroid, strolling towards him, possibly still one of the Leviathans most favorite avatars. They stood again, floating above the endless ocean, though this time it was different. The water below was not murky, but clear and sky was free of any clouds, a red sun illuminating the planet, both the sky and ocean glittering gold.

"I was surprised myself that you answered my call," Shepard responded, looking at the Leviathan. He recognized the voice that he had encountered on Omega, the softer spoken Leviathan rather than the significantly booming other one he originally encountered when he uncovered their kind.  
"Aren't you worried that I'm tracing you back to your new lair?"

"The one that keeps the artifact, your scientist, is still our thrall," the Leviathan reminded him, "we see through her eyes that you have no such apparatus required to do so."

It was like them. Always thinking ahead and making minimal risks. It was also unfortunate that Ann Bryson was still under a limited influence of the Leviathan's indoctrination. She seemed absolutely normal when they met, though doubtlessly, the Leviathans were simply keeping their distance. They wanted him here, trapped in their realm. He knew that too, and both he and Ann had been aware of the risks of this. She'd been skeptical at first, but suddenly the whole conversation suddenly swung towards allowing him into the artifact's presence, probably a sub-conscious suggestion of the Leviathan.

It was a real danger to him coming back here, but he needed to understand.

"I came back," Shepard told the creature, "I... acted hastily the last time we met. I want you to explain further, what you meant. What do you really want?"

"Our rightful place in the galaxy, as the true inheritors of the Mantle," the Leviathan answered him, "civilizations have carried it before, but none have upheld more greatly than our apex kind. Over time, that Mantle was passed down through the cycles from species to species, acting as caretakers while we were confined to the shadows. The Reapers themselves, their guiding intelligences, are also programmed and were dedicated to upholding the Mantle, under their own interpretation of it."

"So now that the Reapers are gone?" Shepard questioned.

"As we said, then it will be time for our kind to restore unity to the stars. It is unquestionable, that in the earliest days on the universe, that even our ancient predecessors knew that it was us, who could enforce the Mantle for all of eternity. It was our destiny. Now we have learned from our mistakes, and grown infinity wiser from it. For the Mantle to be upheld, all chaos must be purged," the Leviathan explained.

"Like Synthetic life?" Shepard questioned, folding his arms. The Leviathan didn't deny it, but nodded.

"Your own view on such things may be colored differently than ours. Machines cannot respect the Mantle. They corrupt it, interpreting that their 'infinite' lives have greater priority over that of the short flickers than is organic life," the Leviathan hissed. "They have destroyed it before, among those who came before us. We only wanted to make sure that never happened again. Our creation of the intelligences you know as Reapers was not hastily as you suspect. They were programmed with an incorruptible and uncorrectable adherence to the Mantle, which could not be broken. Over time, as the intelligences studied the galaxy, they came to the conclusion that all life could not be saved, and an overwhelming majority of lives would be saved through sacrificing others."

"That's not quite an old philosophy," Shepard shrugged. "Your mistake was forcing blind adherence upon them."

"Indeed. We have grown wiser from that. Our own prospective only counted life that was current, but the machines count all life, now and into the endless future. They were a mistake. No machine can truly ever comprehend the Mantle in its pure form."

"Your constant speak of this Mantle... it's your duty to protect life. What do you get out of it? And where did it come from?" Shepard questioned. Like the Leviathan's own previous personal coloring of events, he placed his bets on it being another shading of their own arrogant 'right' to rule the galaxy.

"All advanced organic civilizations will inevitably see its logic, "the Leviathan claimed. "The Mantle itself, possibly predates the creation of our galaxy, possibly even our universe.

How long it has flowed, is unknown, but what is known is that at some time, the strongest created it, passed it on to those under them when they fell to the chaos. It must be understood that the Mantle is simply our name for it, in your language. It is not a thing, but an a idea. The one and only guardians must preserve all. Preservation is a universal concept. All understand that.  
While it is not incorruptible, it is all we have. In the Reaper's reign, that idea has fallen clumsily from one kind to the next. Some species have slaughtered each other over claim to it. Some only saw it as power, and bent it to their own needs. Clear violations, and the Reapers butchered them all for it, pre-space flight or not, as their programming does not allow it to be anything else than the classic interpretation that was common during our rule of the stars."

"The machines would probably see this typical of organics," Shepard answered, reminded of Legion's explanation of organic's bloody history, a conflict over ideas. "You all tried to inherit a concept were there can only be one. You all have different ideas of what it means. Your own interpretation is probably different than what your predecessors thought."

"That is true," the Leviathan admitted, "but none have been as glorious as ours. The coming of a perfect guardian, a guardian that would last as protectors of all for the rest of eternity as always be prophesied by all cultures. We believed, and still believe, we are that guardian. When all the stars were under our thrall, there was no war, no violence, and no corruption. Their minds may not have been free, but they were protected."

"One of your fellow kind, told me that you could never protect your thralls against themselves?" Shepard questioned.

"You misinterpret, like many of the young races. While we controlled them, purged all wrongdoing from them, we could not protect them from hurting themselves while attempting to do good. Building machines, was one of those many things that had unintended consequences for them. Those who built automatons only sought to benefit the rest of their kind, not destroy them," the Leviathan explained. It shifted its stance, glaring at him.  
"I know what you're seeking from this conversation, Commander. You wish to find a flaw in our reasoning. While we know even we are not perfect, we know we are the best hope the universe has for preservation and peace. Currently, no hold the Mantle. It is a perfect time for us to become its reclaimer."

"You're a bit hypocritical of the Reapers," Shepard suggested, not dropping the subject. "Getting up at them for sacrificing lives for others, when you supposedly did the exact same on Omega, and you couldn't even give a good reason for it."

"There is reason," the Leviathan claimed. "You just haven't seen it yet. We have longer foresight than the younger races. To reveal it to you now would make all that sacrifice in vain. A few dead to return all to the endless peace is far more acceptable than trillions slaughtered to continue an endless reign of destruction."

"Suppose your right, if you're telling the truth," Shepard replied, still not convinced that he was getting the truth. It didn't sit right with him, doing the same thing but on a lesser scale. It was still murder supposedly justified to generate an end goal. Did the Leviathans really need to take all those lives on Rannoch? Did they really need every last innocent life? They could have provoked the Geth, wrecking shipyards, and destroying programs they themselves didn't even judge to be 'living', yet they preyed upon others that cooperated with the machines. It reeked of the Leviathan's personnel vendetta against synthetics.  
The Mantle sounded like a perfect concept in theory, but it was always organic's greed that probably always undoes it all.

"I still want to know why, though," Shepard told it, not giving up. "Give me your reason. Tell me why."

"If we did, you could never return to your civilization," the Leviathan warned, "or else you would place that very reason in jeopardy. However, if you yourself were to become a crusader of the Mantle... then you would know of its enforcement."

Did the Leviathan just extend to _share_ its Mantle? And recruit him at the same time? It didn't seem particularly appealing to him, but it was calming. It was a sure example the Leviathan's weren't playing with his mind, because he felt no desire to go along with their plans.

"You want me to fight for your Mantle?" Shepard questioned, folding his arms.

"You would be a perfect one to do so. Your defeat of the Reapers was a grand feat, none before you surpassing such personal greatness," the Leviathan told him. "When my bond mate probed your mind when you intruded our lair, he saw more than just an organic's wired programming to escape its own death. He saw courage and unmatched confidence in a cause to save all life, regardless of their own intention. You are worthy."

He really hadn't expected such complainants from a Leviathan. Maybe it felt comforting to have one with an uninfluenced opinion judge your actions correct. The second thought that occurred to him, was the Leviathan he was speaking to female? It seemed so, though there was hardly much of a noticeable difference in the voice asides from the softer tone. It felt less assaulting that the booming arrogance he had first encountered from that Leviathan.  
Did the Leviathans share memories amongst themselves? It could explain why this particular Leviathan had avatars that mimicked those of her possible equivalent to a husband, as well as his own memories and unspoken opinions of the creature it encountered.

Maybe the compliments or some less honest force was coloring his own opinion now, as he inquired further.

"I thought the Mantle could only have one guardian?" Shepard questioned.

"And one guardian we shall be," the Leviathan agreed. "You would be our crusader, but more than a thrall; a position few have held in the past. Make no mistake, it would not be a place to take lightly. It requires all the sacrifice that can be called from one."

"I... couldn't do that," Shepard answered. What it was asking from him, was that he give up everything he'd ever held dear. It would mean breaking his promise...

"We know your uneasy mind," the Leviathan answered, probably not a coincidence it would guess his thoughts. "Even from our last exchange, we could sense the overwhelming cynicism in your mind that you could do all that you promised to others. You are aware that there are great chances that you couldn't fulfill them.  
We understand that by accepting the offer, becoming our agent, you would immediately forsake all that you loved. However, like many things, it is for the greater good of all."

"Sometimes, that's too great a cost to take," Shepard shook his head, glaring at the Leviathan. It shifted its avatar, from the Blue Sun's leader Ajax, to Ann Bryson, to many of its other appearances. For a second, he may have formed into Tali, but immediately wiped it away when it sensed his oncoming reaction.

"I make no lies when I state the galaxy is a dangerous place more than ever now," the Leviathan told him. "All your stars gathered together in your known space are but only a tiny grain of sand when the galaxy is looked down upon. We already know of threats that rally at your borders... some that may strike within even your lifetime."

Now it was trying to intimidate him? He grew impatient with this.

"What are you trying to say?"

"No lies. You yourself are a great defender... you defeated the Reapers, and they even bested even us once... but everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Those who conquer, slay, and therefore offend the Mantle. We know that it will be many centuries until we have the power to oppose them, but... if you became the shining example of your own collective civilizations willingness to uphold the preservation of life, then perhaps your civilization might hold some priority in the eyes of our kind."

"Your offering protection that may or may not be, in exchange for my acceptance of becoming your henchmen?" Shepard questioned the obvious.

"Protection that you may just need..." the Leviathan hinted at, "as you said before: organic history is filled with bloodshed because of differences. You must be aware, that your civilization will inevitably be opposed by others with different ideas."

"If I don't accept?" he asked, shrugging.

"Then you will leave this place, free, but without your answers," the Leviathan answered him. "Your chances of fulfilling your promises will stay as they are... but standing with me, there is quite some heightened chance that at least some of those promises will be fulfilled... and your civilization will not be left to stand on its own against the rising chaos."

"You'd think I'd accept?" Shepard asked. If this Leviathan was the key to safeguarding the galaxy's future... even Tali's future, then was it really something he could throw away? What if past all the words of self-sacrifice and dedication to preservation, all Leviathans were still the self-serving arrogant creatures he originally thought them to be? Was it really worth it?  
Was there really a greater threat?

"Your mind is at war with itself. We cannot make any assumptions from that," she admitted. "We know you are a caring soul, but also one with the ability to realize what is necessary. Go alone, and you are running a risk of failing... stand with me however, and I will not break our agreement until dying breath."

"This rising chaos?" he questioned.

"It is a threat to us all. Chaos is not just machines, but all that seek to conquer and kill. Without the Reaper's influence, now the amount of it among the galaxy is a hundredfold. There are those out there who know of your worlds: Earth, Palavan, Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Rannoch, and yet you do not know of even their existence. They are not bound by the constraints the Reapers placed upon you... and will prove to be your greater threat."

"Right..." Shepard responded, his mind suddenly clicking with information he received before this even began. There were the theories of the invisible star ships that were supposedly spying on them. Were their intentions malevolent?  
"And together we'd stand against them?"

"Correct. I possess no wish to see your civilization extinguished," the Leviathan told him. "I know for certain that you don't either. These invaders have tread upon the ashes of those who held the Mantle before, gazed down upon them... and turned their heads away, uninterested in it. They do not share ideological concepts, and only seek our destruction or conquest."

"I need to know what that threat is," Shepard demanded, "I wouldn't even consider agreeing with you, if the only thing you can give is hints."

"Then I must show it to you, through my own eyes..." the Leviathan's avatar threw his head back, staring into the sun. Shepard slowly saw the make shift world collapse around him, consumed. He couldn't see even his own body now, becoming a set of floating disembodied eyes.

The first thing the Leviathan showed him was fleets of ships advancing towards the Citadel, bulky vessels large as Dreadnoughts. He blinked, and the ships had disappeared, only for the Citadel's arms to go up in flames. He was floating miles away for the titanic space station, yet he felt the urge to swim through space towards it, to see the destruction closer up. Before he could do so, the world changed again.

Hundreds of worlds, burning, being bombed, completely annihilated. It was almost worse than his vision from the Protheans of the Reaper's coming. He saw fields of dead crops, and starving peoples, dying out as great unnatural super famines swept across their worlds. He saw entire ecosystems being consumed into some biomass, as it rampaged and consumed everything it saw...

The world began to collapse away, the chaos growing uncontrollably until only extermination swept across the stars. Massive fleets of machines roamed, vaporizing entire moons with their collective firepower. Winds, great thermal bursts carried along the ruins of entire star systems through the stars, showers of rocks that could sweep away anything in its path. The scale of the tragedy, was beyond anything even once thought possible.

It was horrifying, and he couldn't take his eyes away. Finally, the entire galaxy was consumed in fire... and then went silent.

His response progressed rapidly. First, he was in disbelief; almost a denial of this, trying to even doubt this as some kind of trick, some horror to force him to their side... though, as he saw the vision before him consuming his attention, he almost forgot something else far more important. He felt another mind, one connected to his. It felt fear. The Leviathan felt real unquestionable terror of this. He almost wondered if it was alike to what Javik felt when he looked into others.

The Leviathans could be intimidated, exterminated and destroyed. They were only mortal, and they felt fear of their destruction. He understood it.

They returned to the calming ocean scenery and both his body and the Leviathan's avatar: now Ann, returned.

"This is all I fear to come," the Leviathan announced to him. "The only thing that can excel the brutal extermination from the machines, is us organics waging unstoppable wars upon each other. The Mantle must return, peace restored, or all the galaxy will be consumed as it was before."

"This has happened before?" He felt scared to ask. How could the galaxy even recover from such depths of destruction?

"It has happened many times. Once the violence begins, it cannot be stopped. Aggression and Xenophobia become way of life, and soon war becomes what all organics thrive on. Only the Mantle has ever driven back this chaos, returned the galaxy to order," the Leviathan claimed. "I would return the Mantle myself, but we are too weak now, to enforce any peace. This is why you may be our last hope."

"Then... what would you have me do?" Shepard questioned. The visions of destruction and death had hypnotized him, galvanized him into action. He saw the clarity of the chaos which he saw shown, and knew it was no lie. He needed to stop it, just as he did the Reapers.

"Delay it. Hold the chaos back for as long as you can, allow us to strengthen," the Leviathan explained, "all of both our kinds have their existence threatened. Join with me, and we together can halt this."

"I can never go back?" Shepard questioned, though his sub-conscious might as well slapped him for asking such a question.

_You're turning you're back on her... she'd understand, wouldn't she? I need to do this. This is what she would expect of me._

"You can never be what you were before. Joining with us, your mind will become bound to mine. Our only concern from then forward would to be to halt the chaos."

He didn't like the sound of being bound to a Leviathan, even if mentally. He didn't like being changed either, becoming someone else... even if it was for the right price. He just wanted to beg for everyone to understand...

_Do you want me to break my promise? Even if it meant saving our lives? Saving everybody's lives? I can't just turn my back on this..._

"I'm... not sure," he answered. He could walk away right now... but never do anything. What if destiny required that his work never be done?

What if he was standing on another ruined world in so many years' time, faced with the fact that it had only happened because he'd turned his back on the galaxy's only hope for salvation?  
How would he become this guardian? Would he simply seek the Leviathan out? Or would they take him to them? Would they even meet again at all? Would everyone know he was gone?

_I want you to know, I left because it was necessary. Damn... I wish... I didn't need this..._

"There is nothing more I can tell you, until you join with us," the Leviathan answered. "It is time for you to choose."

"Then..."

_Please... forgive me..._

"I'll accept, for now."

"Thank you, Commander. You shall be greater than you where before. Now we shall become one guardian... and the no one shall stop the reclamation of the Mantle..."

The Leviathan's avatar reached forward and grasped his hand, and what was left of the world disappeared and he was consumed...

* * *

Garrus shook his head, barely breaking through the shock that had washed over him.

"Spirits... no..." He whispered, and Bau could only nod and agree.

"Doctor Bryson told me he knew the risks... we should all be envious of his courage," the Salarian Spectre told him, glancing down at the body before them.

"When I have to share this news..."

"It will be hard, I know," Bau told him. "The great Commander Shepard is dead... we took possession of, and contained the artifact."

"How did this happen? There should have been safety measures," Garrus questioned.

"Ann Bryson told us that he was insistent on viewing the Artifact unshielded as quickly as possible. She claims that she told him that she might not be the best for watching over him, but he went on with it anyway. When she unshielded the artifact, she said she lost consciousness. From there... he remained close enough to the artifact for too long, the Leviathan building up the strength of the connection to his mind long to undertake some kind of scrub," Bau explained. "Now... even if you could do your Lazarus Project, the brain would still be fried. He's gone."

Garrus continued to knell beside the deceased Commander who was laying on the lab's floor, eyes closed. There was no pulse, no beat. His entire brain had been fried, and the body no longer knew how to function. The damn squids had killed him. They'd killed him.

_Dammit Shepard... why did you have to do this alone? Why go at all? How Tali will react..._

He rolled the body over, much to the annoyance of the nearby C-Sec Officers standing by, but there was probably nothing this crime scene could tell them that they already didn't know. Shepard unshielded the Leviathan artifact... and it had killed him.  
Garrus reached into his jacket and tore off the N7 dog tags, holding them up, glaring at them.

_I swear you'll get payback one day... somehow..._

"I know, we both wish there was something more we could do," Bau told him. "I honestly don't how anyone will deal with this."

"Neither do I..." Garrus admitted. "I've had to deliver enough bad news this month as it is. This? I don't know if I could tell anybody about this..."

"You don't," Bau answered, "everyone will hear the news soon enough."

"No," the Turian Spectre shook his head. "The last thing the people who knew him deserve, is to hear of his death through a damn news broadcast. I'll tell them myself, even if I have to outrun the Comm Relays."

"I understand," Bau nodded. "We can request the Council place an information embargo on this, stop the word getting out before you've done what needs to be done."

"Thanks, Bau... I just never thought this could happen..." Garrus admitted, placing the dog tags in a storage compartment on the side of his armor. The Salarian Spectre gave one final disapproving glare at the body.

"As they say: not all stories have happy endings," Bau told him, pausing before adding: "though this one desperately needed it..."

* * *

The next week was one tragic announcement to another. He'd dispatched messages to the minor crewmen of the Normandy's flights, those who had stood by the Commander's side at any time, known or unknown by himself. He informed them of that, and asked them to keep that information only to them for now. He expected them to honor that.

For those who were apart of the Ground Team, or were a major part of the crew, he wished to visit them all personally and inform them of the events, though that was hardly possible. He started with those close to begin with. He'd met with Joker and Edi who were still waiting down in the docking bay with the Normandy, expecting the Commander to return any moment, or even contact them.

As usual, Joker busted off the usual comments when he saw him coming. He soon went silent after hearing the news. Nobody would be returning to captain the Normandy, and it was likely now that the ship wouldn't be lifting off anytime soon. They couldn't believe it. The immortal Shepard, who had cheated death before, had finally fallen.  
They would stay with the Normandy for now, until it was decided on just what to do with the vessel.

That was only the beginning of it. Soon, he moved on to the crew in general proximity. He eventually passed a message on to the Urdnots on Tuchunka. Wrex was simply silent, no doubt keeping his own bitterness at Shepard's passing locked up inside. Grunt however, instantly demanded to know where the Leviathan's were so he could kill them all. Many were angry, yes.

He eventually contacted many of the former SR1 crew. Kaiden was still a Spectre, and knew of what happened on the Citadel. He too harbored his own bitter anger of what had happened. He wished he'd been there to help.  
Liara herself couldn't believe it. She first refused to acknowledge it was entirely true, and then slowly moved onto accepting that. She blamed herself for not doing more about tracking the Leviathans, though there wasn't anything any of them could do now.

For many of the SR2 crew had simply disappeared, they were much harder to find and inform. The Ex-Cerberus duo of the ground team had turned over a new leaf and gone onto their own new lives, he sent both Jacob and Miranda the message and hoped they would receive it. As for Kasumi and Zaeed, even if they were still alive, he would have no idea of where they were, but he hoped they would still also hear of it.  
He went through all the remaining contacts, dispatching messages. He hit the last few on the contact list, Jack and Samara, though the later might never find the message, much less respond to it. Jack however, contacted him and began to shout, demanding why the rest of them had been on the Citadel and had done nothing. Eventually, she overcame her rage, and apologized for the outburst.

After that, there were few remaining. James didn't believe it at first either, the N7 Marine refuting to believe Shepard would be dead until they buried the body. When he contacted Javik; who currently had departed with a group of Hanar followers to hunt down any possible further Prothean enclaves, had responded with only his trademark unwavering attitude, though he struggled to find words to describe the tragedy of the former Commander's passing.  
They all grieved, even mourned, the loss of what had truly been a great man.

After all that... there was only one person left to inform, probably the hardest. He didn't know how she'd react. He could only make this as easy as possible... which wasn't very easy, to be honest. It took him long enough to even get to Rannoch, negotiating his way with Admiral Raan who he explained the situation, and she understood well what this would mean.

Now, he was here.

"I... I knew he wouldn't coming back... I just knew..." Tali muttered through her sobbing. She had simply slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, cradling her helmeted head in her hands as she wept. "Keelah... I need to say it... when he didn't contact me... I thought he'd... no..."

"If there is anything, Tali, I'm here," Garrus told her, as she had almost simply curled up into a ball. He knew this was coming, but he hated to see her this way. "Whatever you have to say..."

"No, you're not listening... when he didn't contact me... I thought he'd simply chosen to leave..." she admitted, which unexpectedly shocked him. He almost called out on that, but he knew this wasn't the time.

"You know he'd never do that. I know him better than that," he told her, knelling beside her.

"No... It's not because he didn't love me... it's because he always knew that our promise was a dream..." she stopped, her eyes barely visible behind the mask when they were flooded with tears. He placed his hand on her shoulder, though he lacked any words appropriate for that. Say it wasn't? He was gone now, so that might just make it worse.  
"I know a few who'd make a fit about us staying together here... even if he'd live here... he'd still probably make me sick... he never wanted that. Spending all this time on Rannoch, and I wouldn't be able to take off my mask like all the others?"

"That wouldn't be true," he insisted, continuing to try and comfort her. She was babbling, trying to justify what had gone on in her life for the last six years. It was saddening to him that she thought this way, trying to generate cynicism in order to convince herself that this was the only possible outcome.

"After the war ended, he tried to convince me to simply go home, without him for now, and that he'd eventually come when he'd finished up all his work with the Reapers... I'm glad I didn't..." she shook her head. "He spent six years chasing things... six years spent living in the past. We should have spent the time we had together, being happy... not miserly shuffling from one hell to another..."

"He wanted to keep helping people," Garrus told her. "It's what he did."

"And now he's dead..." she sobbed again, bundling her head up in her hands. "I just want him back..."

"We both know that's no longer possible," he told her, "and he wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life mourning him."

"I know..." she shook her head. "But I can't move on... this is my fault..."

"Dammit, Tali, we've already got enough people taking the fall for this," he told her. One of those people might have been himself. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I shouldn't have left him... I was just so tired, so... gah... instead, I let him go off and get himself killed... this is all my fault..."

"Honestly... it isn't..."

She slowly stopped sobbing, glancing up for a second.

"I'm just... so sorry... life will never be the same again..."

"It won't... but that doesn't mean we can't go on living," he insisted. She didn't respond, choosing to stay silent. He continued to stand by her for entire minutes that passed by. Finally, she raised her head out of her hands again. She shook her head, trying to clear her eyes of tears behind her mask. She slowly recovered.

"I understand what you mean..." Tali finally told him.

"We'll never forget him... but for now, you might just need to relax," Garrus responded. He slowly took her arm and helped her herself as she staggered back to her feet. "Take a while to recover."

"No..." she refuted. "I won't rest... not while his work is unfinished. I have to come with you."

"Tali, no," he refused, "I'm still a Spectre, and as much as I'd like to, I know I can't go on a revenge hunt for Leviathans. You need to stay on Rannoch, enjoy the life he wanted you to have..."

"I won't take no for an answer," he insisted, definitely not giving up. Her voice was still strained with stress. "He may have made promises, but I made some too. He wouldn't just want us to give up fighting because he's dead."

"There are no-"

"It wasn't just against squids! Anything! I just-"

"No," he seized her arm, trying to calm her. "I know your angry... but don't be hasty. You just need to calm down."

"Yes..." she accepted, sighing. She lowly lowered herself down to sit on a nearby chair, gazing down. "I just-"

"You're mourning, I understand," Garrus told her, taking a seat beside her. "I've seen it all too well before."

"I'm angry too... he didn't deserve to die like that, to survive all this to get killed by some fish with a grudge..." she began to sob a little again.

"I think that too, but it's not like we can undo that," he repeated, "just rest."

They sat in silence again for a minute or two. While the tears, or at least the sobbing since he couldn't be sure, had stopped, she still gazed at the ground, no doubt overwhelmed in the loss. Finally, she whispered again.

"Will he get a burial?" she questioned.

"The answer to that question is obvious," he answered, nodding. Of course, the greatest hero they'd ever known would get a burial.

"Oh... it would just feel so weird... twice now... even back then, it hurt me, now... I wish I could just place all my hopes on waiting another two years..."

"I'm sorry, but we both know that the extra lucky got two lives, I doubt whatever power that where could grant a third," Garrus mused, hating to say that himself. While honestly, the spirits meant no more than a saying to him or many other Turians now, he still wished there was at least something out there that could guide Shepard back to this world again, to fix this mess.

"I...don't want to be there, again," she muttered.

"I know. You may change your mind, but that's your decision," he replied.

"Hm," she nodded in acknowledgement. "I... I just need to be alone... time to let it sink in..."

"Okay," he answered, but he really didn't feel comfortable with that, though her aunt was here to watch over her. He slowly rose back up to his feet, and walked towards the exit.  
"I won't be leaving immediately, so know I'm here..."

"I know..." she nodded slowly, "goodbye..."

He turned back to reply to that, but she was still staring forward, as if lost in thought. He chose not to say anything, and left.

* * *

Rannoch's temperature wasn't anywhere near hot by Turian standards, though it wasn't like he could feel it through his sealed suit. He could still feel the hard concrete underfoot though, and hear the whirling of his suit's air filters as it actually cooled his own environment to prevent heating as the harsh sun glared on him.

It had been half a week, and now he was departing. As much as he hated it, there wasn't much he could do. Now, he had returned to the space port which he originally arrived, standing amongst a cluster of battered shuttles and various heavily aged craft. He remembered this place from memory, the first properly constructed landing sight built by the Quarians following their resettlement of Rannoch.  
The Normandy had landed here once when Shepard had returned to the planet to resolve prior issues between the Quarians and Geth when a formal treaty of peace was signed. They'd spent weeks working out issues that threatened the peace, and eventually it was resolved with all armed Geth platforms being removed from Rannoch, a necessary appeasement.

_Once again, just another example of him spending time that was his, helping others and doing what they couldn't. He will be missed._

"Thank you, for seeing to informing her personally..." Admiral Raan told him as they walked to the landing area where his Shuttle was waiting.  
"We know that this will be hard on Tali... but we couldn't have avoided it. I wish I could do more..."

"When it comes to loss, there's not a lot much anyone can do," Garrus answered, finding himself quoting a small bit of conversation that stuck in his memory, his father on the subject of his mother. He pushed the sub-conscious quotation from his current thoughts.

"That is true," Raan nodded in agreement. "What I wished was that I could have done more previously... it scares me to think how much time it will take until the mourning stops... if she ever will stop mourning."

"She's strong... she'll recover," he answered, trying to believe that himself. He understood what Raan was plagued by, thoughts of another Zorah who'd lost so much, and simply distanced themselves from the world in order to deal with it.

"I certainly hope so..." Raan replied, turning. "You have been a good friend to her, and you should be proud of your own endurance. Farewell, Spectre."

He left Rannoch again, though he couldn't help but feel something more had happened than just the death of one, very successful, but also very mortal, Human. Without Shepard... the entire galaxy felt like it was unguarded, as if a time before the Normandy flew was not even imaginable anymore...

_Picking up the torch as they say... it may be harder than Shepard himself thought._

* * *

**Author's Afterward:**

**The Mass Effect chapter promised. This took far longer that I wanted. I actually had a majority of the chapter written by the end of last weekend, but I wasn't able to get back on the PC to finish it all until now. As always, life is busy.**

**Hope you enjoy the new cover art I slapped together, nothing fancy. I've also finalized my long term plans for this story, plotting it out and all. While Section I won't tend to cross over much, it's the critical world building needed to set up this plot, instead of just rushing into it.**

**I seriously want to actually get around to doing a little world building in the Mass Effect universe, since so far it hasn't seen as much detail as the Halo Universe has. Next chapter is the Cross Chapter, the Spartan V Program, though when the rotation comes back to the Mass Effect Universe view, I actually hope to give us some serious details of just the standing point of the galaxy that just didn't fit into the general theme of this chapter.**


	6. Act I:III Spartan

_**Chapter III: Spartan**_

* * *

**_On and on shall old war go,  
_****_Without respite my blood will flow  
_****_O'er your eyes 'til they cannot see  
_****_The impossibility of victory._**

**_-Excerpt from the Writ of Union  
_********_Unknown Sangheili Author_**

* * *

A sudden rush and flurry of activity. Doctor Halsey reached forward and grasped the mug of coffee on her desk, and slowly sipped from it. Yes, this was quite familiar, as if she'd managed to turn back the clocks forty or so years, with some noticeable changes but the process similar enough. While she took no pleasure in doing this all over again, there was some feeling of acceleration, a small joy in actually beginning something with a lasting impact, a legacy.

It was like that day all over again, and she had no intention of changing how it would play out, though she had changed the physical activity slightly since there was a much larger subject group.

While she didn't have, or could ever hope for, a drill instructor the caliber of Franklin Mendez, his replacement would be sufficient. Collin Tammerson had been hand picked by Vice Admiral Rich, with the full support of the V Program's AI Advisory Panel. After reading his profile, she was at least satisfied with the choice, the man having the traits of a imposing drill instructor but not as much experience in contrast to the Spartan II's instructor. Though, since it was hard to find people who understood the... nature of the ethical reasoning behind the program, she guessed it limited the Vice Admiral's choices down to a handful.

Currently, she had taken to watching the morning's proceedings from her office, simply drinking cups of coffee and watching the holographic screens in front of her main computer terminal. It was only eleven minutes past five in the Terran Standard, which followed Sydney GMT time, which was actually accurate here on Trevelyan, the Engineers complying with the request to accurately tune the Shield World that the particular sectors which the V Program operated in, to the standard day in the United Nations Space Command's capital.  
Chief Temmerson was preparing the instructors under his command to wake the subjects, equipping light armor and beginning to retrieve their stun batons. Halsey had Ananke run through the very same orders she had given for the first day of training for the Spartan II subjects. While some of the subjects would be partially willing in participate in the program, that may not be true for all, and a process was needed to acclimatize them to their training.

On a view screen to the left of her, she could see views of the subjects who were currently still sleeping, perhaps now only managing to shake off the effects of drugs that had kept them asleep till the time was right. Soon, in ten minutes or less, the full process from turning this assortment of subjects into real soldiers, would begin.

"Everything is fully prepared and the first day of training ready to begin," Ananke manifested on the desk in front of her, the golden glowing AI grasping her hands behind her back. Her appearance had changed somewhat since they first met, Ananke instead appearing wearing vibrant sandy robes and discarding the silver ancient armor of her previous appearance, most likely to seem more approachable. Ananke would be to the Spartan V's, as Deja was to Spartan II Program, a teacher. The AI Goddess glanced up at her, almost reluctant to ask a question.

"How long have you been watching the preparations?"

"You can't find that out yourself?" Halsey questioned, surprised she couldn't find that out herself.

"My programming has me dedicate processing power to tasks in a priority order, and I only have access to cameras inside your facility only when necessary..." Ananke explained, wriggling her hands behind her back as if a little embarrassed. ONI AI's liked the illusion amongst the organics that they knew everything. "It doesn't matter. You're obviously well aware of the current status."

"Indeed, I am," Halsey nodded, looking at the view screens. Temmerson was moving now, flanking by his subordinates as they headed towards the barracks area.  
"Everything should go ahead as planned, even with such a wide subject group."

"With all preparation, I do expect every subject to be capable of complying," Ananke replied, nodding. The AI's avatar folded her arms. "My efforts have been thorough."

Halsey nodded in acknowledgement, looking down at her old wrist mounted analog watch. The hand struck twenty past five accurately, and Temmerson was beginning close as schedule as possible.

"I must inform you however, an unknown AI that has entered our system, has requested I pass on news that you shall be receiving a visitor... very shortly..." Ananke's brow raised, and her mouth formed into a frown.

"I wasn't alerted to this, earlier?" Halsey questioned, placing the coffee mug down on her desk. It was far more neat and tidy these days, though it wasn't like she cared for appearances anymore.

"This information was just passed onto me by our dumb project secretary AI, and is the exact reason I arrived. Our visitor is no doubt inbound as we speak," Ananke informed her, quite irritated by the lack of information herself. Not knowing something anomalous tended to frustrate artificial intelligences. "I myself, am certainly not a fan of being made unequal to other AI's, but that's hierarchy for you."

"Hardly your fault, Ann," Halsey shook her head briefly, twisting around in her chair to glance over at the door. "Such an unexpected visit points to a unfriendly arrival, doesn't it?"

"CINCONI doesn't sneak up on anyone," Ananke responded, theorizing. "Vice Admiral Rich would have certainly made his presence known. Any other ONI or any Human for that matter, doesn't have clearance to even come near our Program. Perhaps Director Hugo Barton has decided to come upon us yet again to complain about our future churning up of Trevelyan's dirt?"

"Hugo wouldn't have the power nor resources to disrupt me in what he knows is a crucial event," Halsey answered bitterly. She didn't need Ananke to guess for her. There was only one visitor capable of showing up like this. The fact that this visit was exactly coincided with the program's initiation? Too much convenience. She was meant to be offended.  
"No need to guess, Ann. I know who's coming."

Halsey switched off the monitors; much to her disappointment, and navigated her chair to sit behind her desk in preparation for the eventual arrival. She decided to activate her data pad, skim some minor information just to pretend that this interruption now wasn't even a hindrance, perhaps even feign having no interest in watching the program begin. She intended to allow no satisfaction to this insult.

Ananke was forcefully cut away, the visitor's unknown AI companion ending their communication. Arrival was upon her.

"Doctor Halsey," Serin Osman's greeting was casual, neutral and lacking any malevolence or anything. Such could be expected. Without invitation, she grabbed a chair and dragged it over to sit directly in front of the desk.

"Captain Osman... or should it be Rear Admiral by now?" Halsey returned the greeting without any familiarity in return, not bothering to pretend to be anywhere near happy or plain subordinate to give the slightest bit of friendliness. For a moment, she stared into Osman's eyes, forming a slight confident smile.

_See? I'm back in a lab, unguarded, and absolutely under no watch. Better yet, I'm back doing the same thing that was the basis for my so called 'arrest', all at the whims of your fabulous mentor and master... _

Osman managed to contain herself, though visibly flinching for a second as she saw the smile on Halsey's face. While on no grounds to rub in her victory, Halsey kept the slight smirk.

"You are correct, Doctor," Osman finally answered, before deciding to press it. "So you should respond with the proper respect."

"Oh, I am indeed showing the respect that I would to any of the UNSC's Rear Admirals," Halsey responded, reaching down to disable the data pad on her desk. "May I just ask what brings you to my new facility, Rear Admiral?" she pressed the 'new' part. It had happened before and it was happening again. Because it was necessary.

_I hope you understand that by now.  
_

"Don't play games with me, Doctor," Osman answered curtly. "You know why I'm here."

"I theorized as such, though I don't see why you'd be here seeing as I am currently operating under the blessings of our Admiral," Halsey almost let the satisfaction in her voice rise too far, though it was hard not to want some way of hitting back at Osman after she had attempted to turn everyone against her so many years ago, all on Parangosky's bidding. She simply needed to show that for all the supposed moral high ground and accusations, all Osman's quest to bring her down simply another move in the politics and intrigue of ONI.

_I can see it in you. You think that Parangosky was just using you. She never cared one bit about what happened in the Spartan Program, and for all that crusading, you were only just this: a puppet with a poisoned dagger. _

"I said drop the games," Osman almost growled that at her, her lack of constrain actually quite surprising. "You may think you've gotten off with only a fifteen year slapping on the wrist, but you should know that I have my eyes on you. When ONI changes hands, you should know that things may operate very differently."

Halsey gave that a slight pause, though she was hardly concerned. Even as CINCONI, Osman knew that she couldn't turn back the clock on a project her predecessor had significantly invested in, for good reasons.

"Will they?" Halsey raised the question, picking up her coffee mug and taking a slow sip from it to voice her lack of concern.

"I swear to you, they will," Osman answered, not dropping her gaze into the Doctor's eyes. "You may think you and the Vice Admiral's newest atrocity is protected, but that would change significantly."

"I doubt Parangosky kept you out of the loop when it came to our new discoveries," Halsey told her, placing the mug back down. "It's not like your hands were clean to begin with. I'll go with the assumption that you've grown up a little since we last met, and finally come to the conclusion on just what this is about," Halsey told her, ignoring Osman's seething at that commented. Despite the tempered rage displayed on Osman's face, Halsey leaned forward fearlessly.  
"This is about survival."

"Sometimes, it's more than that," Osman huffed, leaning forward over the desk to meet Halsey, still staring into her eyes with that furious, but contained anger.

"When it comes to intergalactic politics, it isn't," Halsey commented, pulling away to lean back in her office chair again, leaving Osman still glowering over the desk. "Even with the Insurrection, it was a do or die. Don't tell me, that you'd chose a small handful of innocents over the entire UNSC, if it came to it?"

"Don't try to compare us," Osman growled at her, her hands firmly placed on the desk as if ready to flip it over onto the old woman behind it. "You can't admit they've broken you down to the point that your ONI's loyal puppet, willing to commit any atrocity on their order."

"If I carry out evils on others behalf, how exactly is the blame solely on me?" Halsey pointed out, continuing the debate. "Like it or not, Serin, it was the likes of; maybe even, Parangosky herself that authored the Spartan Program. I simply had to carry it out. Why? Because if I didn't, someone less qualified would, and more would pointlessly die."

"You bitch..." Osman simply muttered, perhaps now overly infuriated that this argument was not winnable.

"You never struck me as the kind to shy away from the hard choices," Halsey toned her voice down to somewhat neutral, making sure to make it come off as a comment instead of an insult. That might just go too far.  
"I do, or I die. Don't fool yourself that there is anybody out there that would do differently if placed in my shoes."

"Don't fool yourself into thinking everyone in the world is like you," Osman responded, giving the desk a slight hammer with a slight smack with her hand. A clenched fist might have broken the desk into flying shrapnel.  
"You know there were ONI agents that refused orders to help your project and died for it . Of all people, you need to see that you're wrong."

That actually managed to silence Halsey, the Doctor frowning as she subconsciously rolled her chair back slightly. Finally, she had her answer.

"So assuming everything went to Parangosky's finely set out plans, and you had the power to stop me, you'd do it, even though you know that you can't save these subjects now? You can't wind back time, and you certainly can't help them. Why not let it serve the greater cause, as our fine leader intended it to?" Halsey questioned, giving Osman her own moment in silence.

"I wouldn't," Osman finally answered, tackling the question head on instead of dodging it like so many others would have done. "I've seen the Intel on the System's Alliance, what we've gleamed from their secrets. Even they never resorted to this kind of evil when faced with annihilation. Sooner or later, we're going to have to prove that we can act with the same integrity."

Halsey could only grin at that. "You must have not read all the data, Serin, or perhaps you're trying to slip some of the facts by? The word Teltin mean anything? We're a legalized Cerberus Network, by parallel standards..."

Osman finally gave up trying to keep some restraint, and simply swiped up the data pad off the desk, knocking papers and even a terminal off it and onto the floor. She held the data pad in hand for a second, studying it, before snapping it in half, the screen shattering, and dropping it on the floor.

"When we arrested you, one of my subordinates thought he should have shot you, killed you," Osman admitted, "stop you from harming anyone else ever again and to give you the punishment you truly deserved. Back then, I was foolish enough to believe you'd get it. Honestly, I should have killed you myself."

Halsey frowned, studying Osman carefully. For the first time in the conversation, Osman broke eye contact.

"Believe me, I take no pleasure in this," Halsey told her, undertaking the effort to stay leaned forward on the desk and not shrinking back further. "You're not here because you hate what I'm doing, you're here because you're frustrated because you think Parangosky has been lying to you."

Osman glared back at up at her. Years in solitude hadn't dulled Halsey's ability to read people and guess motivations. Halsey continued,  
"in truth, at the time, she may have meant every word. However, circumstances change. We didn't need another Spartan Program then, but we both know we need one now."

"You're already assuming that they'll be war," Osman commented without emotion.

"I've witnessed decades of what could be considered some of the most monumental developments in Human history," Halsey told her. "I've seen Humanity's true side throughout it all. Two nations who only know themselves as the complete unopposed representation of their species could never simply tolerate each other. Even if there isn't war, it'll get ugly, and in the end, only one will survive, and this new program shall further the chances of that surviving faction being ours."

"I refuse to believe that's all that drives you," Osman didn't move, completely stone as she stared at Halsey.

"It's probably all I have left," Halsey replied without hesitation, "you've taken everything else from me."

That ended the conversation. The two sat in silence, still not breaking eye contact. Halsey didn't relent one bit. After an entire minute in silence, they finally spoke.

"Do you think of them as people?" Halsey questioned, leaning back. "our new subjects, I mean."

"If they're intelligent enough to become your tools, then probably so," Osman answered, before replying with the same question. "Do you?"

"A little bit, yes. I find some humor in that I originally dehumanized my view on you and your comrades during training in order to better cope with what I was doing to you myself, but I eventually gave that up. I tried not to care about using Human subjects, now I'm trying to care about using alien subjects. The complete reverse, now really," Halsey commented, the admission nowhere humorous, but she was trying to see the light side of it in the irony.

"If this does lead to war," Osman commented, breaking eye contact again to look down at the broken data pad, "you better hope you're victorious, because I don't think any of our enemies would take kindly to the fact that you abducted and experimented on their children before it even began."

"If we succeed, there will never be any wars," Halsey answered, reaching down at grabbing some of the papers that had previously been knocked off the desk. "That's been ONI policy since the Covenant War. End any conflict before it even begins."

Osman simply nodded in acknowledgement, rising up from where she sat down.

"This meeting has been interesting, Doctor Halsey," Osman told her. "You were right about something. I still would tell you however, that this might be the last project you direct."

"I hope so," Halsey simply nodded in return. "That would require either my death or the lack of further justifying conflict. Either one will do great good for this galaxy."

Osman frowned for a second, before turning and leaving the room. The door slid itself back shut behind her. Halsey couldn't help it as a slight grin came to her face.

_It took you a while, but you finally see it. I only do what is necessary. _

Without pause, she hit the power button on the projector on her desk and rebooted the system. Eventually, Ananke fluttered back into a visual form from the static.

"Being cut off without warning is unpleasant," Ananke simply told her, the AI clenching her hands tightly behind her back, "no... insufferable."

"Thank my guest," Halsey muttered, turning to the screens behind her. "I assume you've already begun writing two hundred and fifty different subject reports in my absence?"

"You missed the beginning, but I wouldn't say you missed much. All Tammerson is doing, is currently already marching every subject around the entire Dyson sphere," Ananke humored her, "seriously, is a fast jog all he has planned for this morning?"

"It's only been five minutes," Halsey glanced down at her watch. Ananke shook her head.

"You know five minutes might as well be five centuries for me. Hard to make any physiological evaluations other than only one of them has fallen flat on their face yet."

"Number?"

"Subject V-93."

"Makes sense," Halsey nodded, kicking away the shards of her broken data pad. She pulled out some old fashion paper out of her desk and used her pen to make a few notes she wanted to move out of her mind to a more permanent location. At her age now, she had lost the sharp memory of her youth. Because of that, now she needed to do trivial things such as write notes.  
"Still considering a repair process?"

"Such would no longer be beneficial now that the program is underway," Ananke replied, folding her arms. "I speculate 93's clumsiness is simply due to lack of proper physical activities before recruitment, not due to any current emotional burdens."

Halsey begun reactivating the monitor screens, and Ananke directed them to the point of interest.

"They'll shape up eventually, Ann," Halsey replied, watching on.

"They'll do or they die," Ananke simply quoted, nodding.

* * *

His eyes snapped open. At first, he couldn't tell what was being shouted, but unlike what was being yelled at him, pain couldn't be ignored.

Baal; as his guardian had named him, yelped as something struck his side, causing him to roll forward and off the cot. He struck the floor, a hard metallic surface, and groaned. He clenched his side where he'd been struck, gritting his teeth. The lapse of pain was good. It helped him refresh his memory, understand why he was here. He remembered last night... or was it two nights ago now?

He glanced up, and there was a uniformed man standing over him, prodding him with the deactivated stun baton. Baal didn't react at first, still too shocked. Finally, the man shook is head in disgust, and clicked the switch on the baton to reactivate it.

Baal leaped, quickly stumbling to his feet. His stumbled, and almost fell back down again in his haste. He didn't know why, but his body felt numb, his movements alien and unfamiliar. What had changed?

He glanced down at himself, studying. For a moment, he looked at himself. He knew he was still himself, so what had happened. Baal knew something was strange. Was he dreaming again?

"Hey!" the uniformed man shoved him, causing Baal to stagger back again. "Look at me, maggot!"

Baal fearfully met the gaze of the adult who stared into his eyes. His gaze was hard to hold without shrieking away, two old withered eyes that seemed to stare into his soul. If this wasn't real, it was a nightmare. He felt to urge to run, to escape, to flee.

Though from the cries and shouts around him, he doubted that was possible. Baal shifted his gaze for a second to what was going on around him, and ended up glaring way longer than he planned. He saw them, his brothers and sisters which he remembered, suffering as he did. Finally, his glare was broken as activated stun baton was thwacked against his arm, causing him to yelp again. It was a lesser shock than before, but painful none the less.

"I swear kid, if you go daydreaming one more time again, these shocks will get a whole lot harder!" the handler shouted in Baal's face. "Gear up already, recruit! Get yourself together now!" he repeated it twice in case the child didn't understand, though Baal still gazed at him, totally lost.  
"That means, get dressed!"

That was something he could understand. On the front of his cot, a tunic was left folded. Again, something felt off about it. It was prickly and irritated him, something he hadn't felt before. It was far too big too, the sleeves dangling from his arms. Though, from the looks of it, this was shared amongst his siblings, who had also now begun to pull the black shirts over their heads.

As soon as they all completed this simple task, he was once again shouted at with instructions to get moving. They were all marched outside of the barracks, a metal structure that looked far from welcoming. Baal was swept along with it, still struggling to understand what was happening as he saw driven forward with both his brother and sisters as well as some he didn't even know.

Once they were driven outside, they encountered a man waiting, standing in an grander uniform compared to his fellows, grey and lacking in the armor plating that accompanied the other man's black plain shirt. Under a grey cap on his head, the man's hair looked almost departed, and his dark almost black eyes stared into them that frightened Baal way more than the one who had beaten him with the baton.

"Recruits! Form column! Ten by five!" this new man shouted to them, and they all begun to stumble into the formation. This reminded Baal of the game the Guardians had played with them, seeing how fast they all could form different shapes. No doubt his siblings remembered, but they were all still so panicked and shocked, they stumbled amongst each other.  
"Come on! Didn't they teach you to count in the test tube?" the man shouted again, his features forming into a scowl. Whatever as meant by that, Baal couldn't understand that either.

Eventually, they managed to walk into a loose rectangle, ten in each row of five. The leader man dropped his scowl, and nodded, glancing down at his watch to possibly check how long they'd taken. Baal knew in this case, smaller numbers were better.

As he did that, Baal glanced among the column. He saw his nine other siblings, all looking as stunned as the rest. He was familiar with some that weren't his siblings, though he couldn't recall their names, though they knew of him as he knew them. As they all became more aware, the column grew tighter as they began to huddle together. This was met by more hostile expressions and another instructor moving amongst them with his stun baton, prodding them back into the loose flock.

"Did I give you permission to break formation, recruits?" one the lesser instructors shouted at them, giving a girl that Baal didn't know a hard whack on the shoulder with the stun baton.  
"No? Then hold your formation!"

Baal groaned, his body beginning to grow sore from the shocks. He continued to stand on his feet, though, as did they all. The leader man had stopped looking at his watch now, and was tapping his own baton against his hand, as if impatient for something. Baal certainly hoped it wasn't them.

He thought he could hear more people shouting at them, but he realized the voices were far off, only getting closer now. The chatter was familiar, more instructions to 'maintain formation'. Around the corner of a wall, came more recruits led by instructors. But only a few of them didn't make Baal stare in shock.

They also stood in the same formation, fifty strong each. They were aliens, of all different kinds. They all glared at each other, pretty much confirming they were all as shocked as each other. Only the bird like ones, with spiky heads, managed to keep a perfect formation.  
There were others. One's that had weird mouths. There were ones with four eyes, that glanced at everything has nervously as they did. There was another group Baal spotted that looking alike to himself and his siblings, hanging around with the many eyed aliens as well as these other, shorter skinnier weird ones who reminded Baal of creatures found near the water. Standing in a column between the water creatures and the ones with many eyes, there must have only been under two rows of them, but they looked similar to himself and his siblings, only a bit shorter. Asides from them, there were others who Baal first thought might be alike to them, but had strange feet and three fingers, as well as having their faces obscured by masks.

"All recruits!" the head instructor began to shout again. "Form up! Continue the march! Alpha Group, that means you kids," the man stared in their direction, "join your column to the end of the larger formation! Move now!"

They all dropped their stares at the aliens for the moment, to get moving. The other columns stumbled by, and together, Baal followed the rest as they tried to move without breaking their shape, to be walking behind the aliens. As they moved, Baal was pushed between rows as they walked. Eventually, all 'recruits' were marching in a single line of their separated columns of fifty.

"Columns! Begin march, double time!" the head instructor shouted at them, and Baal believed he could hear the voice repeated, but speaking different words. What was that?

_TI37-MIGTU (Military Intelligence Grade Translation Unit)_

Baal shook his head, not knowing what was happening. The voice in his mind, his voice, reminded him of things he couldn't remember himself. It was disconcerting, as well as frightening, when it called.

He hid it though, and began to jog as they were all forced to pick up pace. They all seemed to hold it well enough, though one of the masked creatures tumbled over and fell onto the dusty track they were marched down. She quickly stumbled back to her feet and sprinted to catch up with the rest of her column, looking terrified.

Baal constantly glared at his surroundings, trying to ignore the weird creatures before him. At first, they were simply moving through a lot of structures that looked alike to the one he woke up in, the barracks. If all of them came from here, then there could be four barracks, maybe five. To all of them, the structures looked cold, grey and very strange. Between the buildings, only dirt paths had been paved. All of the structures were surrounded by a tall concrete wall, that Baal couldn't get a glimpse of what was over it, with the exception of the sky.

What stunned them all however, was when they passed through a gate in this wall, and moved beyond the compound. The dirt paths continued, but amongst a natural forest, open grasslands and meadows. While his memories were still blurry, it reminded him of home.  
That wasn't what was shocking them all however. It was the grand structures, too simply amazing to be the craft of those who built the metal structures they came from. Massive towers shot up from the fields, reaching into the sky. Blue energy pulsed up their sides, before a miniature blue ball of light was launched up into the sky to explode into millions of tiny blue specks of light that faded into the air before they came anywhere near the ground.

It captured many of them in it's awe, the strange mouthed reptilian aliens having their four mandibles agape, more captivated by it than the rest.

"Keep moving!" the instructors continued to yell at them. They continued their forced march, and while Baal, nor any of his siblings seemed to fazed by it, he noticed that some of the others began to wheeze and and cough. They were still forced to keep jogging however, until even Baal found himself coughing out the dirt kicked up by the columns in front of them.

Eventually, after some time, they were allowed to stop, sit in the grass and have some water. He gulped down the water handed to him in a bottle, almost drinking till half way in his greed, until he saw one of his sister's; Ellie, sitting next to him and glaring at him. The water they were given was shared between three.

"You're not getting anymore!" Ellie wretched it from his hands and took some of the water herself. The boy sitting beside her, he didn't recognize by name, the boy being from a different family, waited for some water himself. He didn't look irritated, more simply exhausted beyond the point to even complain. Eventually, Ellie drank a quarter of the water and handed over the remaining quarter to the other boy. Baal stared at the ground, a little bit ashamed for his mistake. While Ellie might hold it against him later, it didn't look like the other boy seemed to care as he gulped down what remained.

"Sorry," Baal simply whispered, and Ellie shook her head.

"Sorry, doesn't bring back the water, greedy dog," Ellie whispered back at him. Of all his sisters, none outdid Ellie when it came to being harsh and mean. Baal simply looked away. He and his siblings, the other families, as well as these aliens and outsiders, were all here, and for what? The grey haired lady's speech was all that remained in his mind. While he didn't understand some of it, he knew what he had been told.  
They were here to train and become stronger. Some wanted that more than others. For Baal, it was everything he'd spent his life being prepared for. To become strong.

"All of you! On your feet!" the leader came back again, the rest now apparently over. He twirled the stun baton in his hand as he waited for them all to rise.  
"Every single one of you! Assemble in a single column, five in each row! You cannot be standing in a row with anyone that was in your column on the march here!" he shouted the new instructions.

Baal paused, as did many of them. That meant he'd be standing in a row with none of his own, with the aliens and possibly outsiders. As the stun batons crackled, they moved anyway. Baal stumbled in somewhere behind Ellie, in a row somewhere in the middle. The column was pretty loose, as none of them had any particular desire to be close to each other.

He turned his head and found himself staring into the beady black eyes of one of the four mandible creatures, it staring back into his just as alienated. It breathed a heavy huff in his face, and Baal stepped back in disgust as a mist of saliva hit him.

"Ewww..." one of Baal's brothers; Xev, commented as he stood behind them. Baal shook his head, and swiped the saliva off his face. The alien simply seemed to form something that was a mockery of a human grin, before tuning its attention away.

He looked further down the row. He saw one of the spiky heads, who unlike the rest, wasn't studying those around him, but keeping his gaze straight forward. The weird mouthed alien attempted to get a gaze into him, breathing a gust of misty saliva his way too, but the spiky head didn't even react to that either. Could he even turn his neck?

Then there was one of those strange helmeted aliens with three fingers. He recognized it as the one that had fell into the dust earlier on the jog here. The suit she wore all over her body, obscuring any trace of skin, seemed to still be covered in the dirt, brown specks covering the hood over her head. She brushed them away nervously, seeming far more panicked than the rest of her group, who all seemed to stand around clueless and gazing off into the sky.

Finally, on the end of the row, which was hard to see from Baal's opposite end, was an outsider, a girl. She looked way smaller than any of his siblings, tiny compared to another of the spiky heads who was standing behind her. She stood with her arms folded, and glaring at everyone around her too. There didn't really seem anything interesting about her. She certainly wasn't one of them.

"You standing with someone you don't like? Tough luck! Those within your row, are now your team for today's exercise, and probably beyond," the head instructor told them. None of them were brave enough to protest that, no matter how much they would have usually complained. The man smacked his baton into his open palm.  
"You indeed shall work together! Because if you don't, you can all share some quality team bonding time starving together! Orders handed down to me, instruct, that the last team to finish today's exercise, shall not get a single bite of anything! Do you hear me, recruits? That means, if you lose, no food!"

That was pretty much well understood in all of them. Baal took another gaze of his now team. They didn't appear to be winning material, though no more than the rest of the teams that stood in front and behind them. He could hear his brother Xev groan in irritation.

"You shall now receive a squad designation! Beginning from the front!" the instructor told them as he walked beside the first row. For each name he called, he stepped forward another row to make things clear.  
"Predator, Hornet, Vindicator, Phaeston, Locust, Avenger,-" the man finally reached Baal. "Tempest, Javelin, Claymore-"

_Squad Tempest. Got it._

Baal glanced down the row again. The spiky head had actually turned himself side ward to look in their direction, but only to continue gazing towards the instructor. Behind him, Xev repeated his own squad name aloud as if to get use to the word.

"Squad Javeel-" Xev stumbled on pronouncing it. "Squad Javelin."

"Now, you shall have your squad designation! Remember it well, because you'll have to call it when you cross the finishing line. Don't want to forget what's needed to win, right?" they were all told by the head instructor. Finishing line? This was a race? Baal knew he was fast, at least enough to almost outrace most of his siblings, but how could he know if these aliens were faster?

"Your task, will be to move into the nearby area, seek out a bell in this area behind me-" the man pointed his thumb back to the forest behind him, "and every team member is required to ring it, before getting back here!" they were finally told. "Simple enough? Right, recruits!? Right?"

It was the first time he'd actually heard anything spoken from the aliens or outsiders. They all responded clumsily and out of sync. The weird mouthed alien beside him shouted something he couldn't understand, but seconds later, he could. Translation.

"Right!" a dozen voices responded, including Baal's and all of his siblings. The man gave them all a look of scorn, before nodding.

"Then it begins. Now! Go! Go! Get moving to those bells!" The man shouted, and Baal already found himself shoved aside.

There wasn't any coordination, for certain. He was actually thankful that his brother Xev shoved him out of the column entirely, because everyone raced forward into each other, some individuals not even beginning to move yet. There was shouting as they all shoved passed each other to beginning rushing forward to the forest.

Baal stumbled, and finally began running behind them. He glanced around the racing horde, managing to spot those he'd stood in the row with. They didn't look like they wanted to cooperate. Both the spiky head as well as the weird mouth, and also the small girl, had all raced forward, with the last member of the team barely managing to keep up behind them, the masked girl seeming to continue coughing as she stumbled behind them.

They all simply raced forward, and Baal had no idea but to follow them.

* * *

"No team cooperation first time around is expected, as always," Halsey shuffled the papers in front of her, written reports from the Spartan III program about the training on Onyx. She had taken some glances at it. It was definitely more than she would have expected, the training mostly copy and pasted from the Spartan II program until Kurt had taken and improved it, to focus more on training willing recruits against alien targets.

It couldn't be applied here, but it did give a lot of valuable insight when dealing with subjects with no proper psychological report beyond confirmation of their will to fight.

"That's the way they are naturally," Ananke told her, shrugging, "something shared among all species. Always look out for number one, the self."

"It's natural yes, but overtime, it can be removed to a certain extent," Halsey responded, glancing down at another folder that sat of her desk, a compilation of all her Spartan II work, including weekly reports. Looking back on the notes always seemed to be convincing enough to regenerate the spirit. Something could be done.

She continued to study the view screens with interest, watching all the subjects tumble over each other, searching for some blasted bit of noisy metal. There were multiple bells to accommodate the larger group, which had all been either hidden, or protected behind a wall of significant obstacles. Eventually, the subjects would be able to reach at least one of them.

"Some have group values to an extent..." Ananke commented as she watched a particular screen through the eyes of her virtual form. Halsey spotted a Quarian who had fallen over tripping on a rock, and another stopped to help, grabbing the other boy's hand and lifting him back to his feet. Valuable time that could have been spent racing ahead, was instead used to help another, outside of the team. Maybe their kind did have some good social values, but that was pointless to the exercise if only a handful helped others.

She glanced around the other screens, watching the chaos roll on. They'd get to the bells, ring them and get back. Ultimately, there would be one individual who'd come back last, take the blame, and lose it for their team. That team would starve as a result.  
That was when the real team building began.

It would hopefully be built upward. Exercises were built with the purpose of encouraging and rewarding cooperative behavior. Teams that worked together, would preform better. The losing team would be faced with either undertaking it together, or starving. Most of the time, they chose the first option.

Simple enough strategy.

"We'll get the results we want, one way or another," Halsey commented, changing the com screen to another camera point. The scuffle to reach the bell on the third pole had already begun. Others were still milling about, desperately trying to find another bell.

"It's forging them as a team that's the problem," Ananke told her. "I theorized the difficulty of getting them to work together is communication. While with all the installed translators, language is hardly a problem, it's the initiation of that communication which is the problem. Most people have a problem talking with a reptile much larger than them, I suppose."

"They'll learn to communicate eventually," Halsey reassured her. "That's your role, right?"

"Indeed," Ananke replied, nodding. "The devised modified curriculum should get some communication flowing. I've decided to do bits and pierces of different species's history, all of them obviously including particular military actions we can learn from. Sangheili-San'Shyuun War, Covenant Wars, Reaper Wars, Unification... list goes on," Ananke told her, before slyly adding: "Morning War is my favorite."

"Funny, Ann," Halsey answered, knowing the AI liked the cruel humor. "Some notable military actions, but nothing really to teach them?"

"You're right about that," Ananke still smiled. "A lot of Luddites bashing tech they don't understand."

"You've modified the curriculum? No Thermopylae?" Halsey questioned, pretending to be sadden as she toyed with Ananke. "It's the classic."

"Of course, Thermoplyae," Ananke replied, folding her arms. "What do you think I was going to teach them on the first day? Wolves?"

"Let's not get off task, here," Halsey replied, flicking over to another camera view. She spotted a subject; one of the clone children, clambering up bell post two, grasping at the tiny handholds. Determination at least, but not the work of any team effort. The girl's fellow trainees still milled about, unable to match the feat and also not able to find a way themselves.

The recruit finally reached the top of the post, reaching up to grasp the bell's chain and ringing it. Halsey glanced to the screen beside it, where Ananke brought up a subject report. Ellie V-029. As a small surprise, it was the same girl Halsey remembered seeing in the Containment Labs, hazel haired and blue eyed. All notes made thus far pointed to the girl being an above average subject.

Halsey continued to watch as she slowly herself slid down the pole, landing at the bottom amongst a crowd of subjects. They all crowded around, glaring up at the pole and wondering if they could replicate the same tactic. A Bartarian was the next to take up the challenge, quickly grasping on and pulling himself upward. A few others joined in, but they only got in the way of each other.

Ananke shook her head as the subjects began to take off to the finish line, with their team mates still hanging around with the task unfinished. Team Locust had a majority of its members over the line first, but that was all for naught as long as their last member dwindled behind. One of the memory wiped Quarian's simply still hung around at the base of one of the bell's, unable to climb it or do anything for that matter. For a while, he stood around hopelessly, and Ananke sighed.

The exercise continued, with the last remaining subjects finally retreating from the forest and reaching the finishing line. Each team stood on the edge of it, not knowing if someone in their team was going to be the last one to cross. Finally, nearly every subject was accounted for, save one. Halsey watched the dread and disappointment on Ananke's face as the instructors had to move into the forests, to find that Quarian boy still sitting at the foot of one of the posts. They took a bit of pity, and didn't hit him with the stun sticks, but being dragged back humiliated was bad enough.

It was Team Locust that would be the first team to have the consequences of failure. Halsey fiddled with her pen, clicking it in and out repeatedly as she watched Tammerson round them all up and shout at them all. It was what as required, after all.

"I must go to my facilities, now," Ananke turned around to face Halsey, "Tammerson shall arrive soon as he's finished yelling at them. Good day, Doctor Halsey."

"Good day, Ann," Halsey answered, nodding. Ananke's avatar simply disintegrated into dust and was washed away by an a virtual wind.

* * *

_**Author's Afterward:  
**_

**The first of the Spartan V Chapters. It's the beginning of something, certainly. I considered dropping the conversation at the beginning of the chapter, but I decided it was necessary for a few reasons. Mainly, just to draw a few parallel universe comprehensions, further characterization as well as introduce Osman at least, for the sake of the plot further down the line (more on that later!)  
This chapter served to introduce the beginning of the program. I've kind of saved the inter-species conflict, and team unity stuff for later, next chapter.  
**

** But there is things elsewhere, I must address three other things.  
**

**On the Shepard-Leviathan alliance, I wouldn't say it's for the best either, nor are the Leviathans meant to be anywhere near a force of good in this story. It's great that fans of the series can criticize it.  
**

**On the ONI being seen as an apparent villain, I'd say, after reading the Thursday War, that it would be out of character for ONI to do anything else. While ONI is no Cerberus (ME3 Cerberus = crazy evil with no purpose), they do have no restrictions, and are very powerful in the UNSC structure. While the UNSC might not be necessarily be that bad a government, ONI certainly doesn't help.  
While at some point in the story, we may see ONI as an opposing force from some certain points of view, be antagonized, doesn't mean that they are simply evil. Most of the Haloverse already considers ONI to be 'just evil' in their eyes, but that's just opinions, that doesn't take away from what they are, and what they do: make the hard choices nobody else can do.  
**

** At no point, I promise you, will this story have devolved into Mass Effect (Good!) vs Halo (Bad). No predictable plot emergence, such as 'Leviathans/random evil, let us unite and put our differences aside!' that you would expect either. Or, a typical Citadel-UNSC/ONI war, and such. Leading on from plot...  
**

**I've finally finished writing Kin From The Stars overall plot layout, the entire overarching plot from prologue to finale. May I say, I am impressed what I produced overall. I don't usually like to write out my ideas for Fan Fictions, but this was just required it.  
If I keep up my usual schedule of releasing a chapter a week, taking away weeks when I may miss an update and adding those when I may produce multiple chapters. ****I'll probably finish this in two years :)  
There are one hundred and eight chapters planned, split across three acts in three books. Grand story indeed. **  


******PS: Fixed the glitch, when I updated Chapter 2, I instead replaced it with Prologue III :) Chapter 2 has returned.  
**


	7. Act I:IV Internal Disagreements

**Chapter IV: Internal Disagreements  
**

* * *

******__****"_ONI couldn't move in a straight line even if you put it on rails" - Vaz Beloi, Orbital Drop Shock Trooper_**

* * *

"Formation Bravo, fire Shiva missile at marked Dreadnought," Rear Admiral Curtyn announced dryly, scrutinizing the battle before him. Three Destroyers, plus six Frigates against an overwhelming force consisting of two Turian Dreadnoughts, four Cruisers and nine Frigates. Hardly an even fight, but they'd show the birds that they were outgunned by a mile.

The _UNSC Patricia _unleashed a single Shiva warhead, launched on a straight path to the Turian Dreadnought trying to flank around their formation. Before it could hit however, the Dreadnought's GUARDIAN system neutralized the Shiva, the nuclear warhead detonating harmlessly in the emptiness of space instead of blowing that damn ship apart. Nuclear had too much flare, and was easily detected and dispatched by those advanced counter systems. Curtyn nodded with his assessment, and panned his change of tactics.  
On the left flank of his flagship, he could see the Frigate _Tenacious _explode into a fireball as the Turians focused fire and brought down its shields, slamming mass driver after mass driver shot into the vessel. He didn't have much time left to working things out.

"All frigates! Launch all Archer missiles at designated targets! Follow up with a MAC round!" the Rear Admiral shouted. The UNSC fleet responded, unleashing a hailstorm of missiles from every ship. Obviously overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, a deadly amount of Archers made it through to crack those _kinetic barriers _of theirs, and leave them open for the finishing.

The _Alexandre's _duel MAC canons fired, the Destroyer driving two clean holes through one of the two Turian Dreadnoughts. It was enough to cause critical damage, the ship slowing to a halt and began drifting. The second Dreadnought pulled back to avoid the same fate, but not before it got one of it's wing's clipped by a near miss.

_Take that birdie. There's a lot more were that came from._

Curtyn leaned heavily against the holographic display table, a smile playing across his face for the first time today. Further MAC strikes were gutting Turian Frigates and Cruisers left and right. While only fifty percent of his own battle force remained, they had eliminated a highly important enemy asset. As all Intel suggested, the Hierarchy couldn't just replace a Dreadnought, not easily that is.

"All ships! Fire at will! Take as many as you can!" He shouted his new commands, watching as the second Dreadnought disappeared into FTL, and its few remaining supporting Cruisers and Frigates followed it, most likely only a strategic retreat. They'd be back.

The Alexandre was the only Destroyer still standing, and two fully operational Frigates. The rest were space junk or in the case of one Frigate, crippled.

Those nuclear mines planted before the battle had taken an enemy cruiser, plus two frigates. The fleet engagement has claimed double that. The UNSC's superior weapons technology had won the day in straight up fight. While the birds would likely return with reinforcements, hit them again with more numbers, and eventually seize the colony, but today was a victory none the less.

"Admirals?" A voice sounded beside him. On the other side of the table, Vice Admiral Rich hit the holograms with his hand twice, signalling for the Dumb AI to pause the simulation.

"Captain Lasky, good that you join us," the Vice Admiral gave the first greeting, informal. The captain of the UNSC Infinity saluted both officers. Curtyn simply nodded, gesturing for him to be at ease.

"I hope I didn't interrupt the-", Lasky paused for a second, glancing down at the holograms on the table. While he obviously recognized the UNSC warships, he glared at the Turian vessels. To him, it most likely looked like they were misusing UNSC equipment to play some ridiculous strategy game. He ignored it, continuing.  
"-the fleet simulations, sirs, but I came as soon as the orders came through."

"Don't worry, it was just a trivial exercise," Curtyn responded, nodding to Rich. "Practicing some unusual scenarios, a little brain exercise, if you will."

"An interesting way to spend time," Lasky nodded, walking closer to the table, inspecting the detail of the holographic wrecks that hung above a nameless colony world. Rich tapped his side of the display and closed the simulation before the Captain got a more closer look on the Turian vessels. He'd dismiss them as fictional creations to represent unknown alien forces, but in case the Infinity ever did see a Turian vessel in the future, it was best the Captain did not make that connection.

"It's good to see you here, Captain," Rich stepped forward, pushing the thought of the simulation aside. "I trust the Infinity's latest hunt was successful as ever?"

"I'm afraid not, Admiral," Lasky replied, "We uncovered a few more sets of coordinates on possible Forerunner installations, but they were marked in hazardous space. The orders handed down from Fleet was not to pursue them."

"They're not worth what they once were, anyway," Rich simply told him, strolling back over to the holographic projector. He waved the dumb AI to open an access console in front of him. He typed rapidly into the keyboard.  
"We know everything possible about the Forerunners, now. That's why were moving into putting that all knowledge into practice."

"Sir?" Lasky questioned, curious.

"Consider this an offical briefing. The Infinity is getting pulled from the search for further artifact locations," Rich told him, opening up a hologram of a stellar location, a great asteroid field surrounded by massive swirls of free floating dirt. It looked like a planet had broken up and left nothing by a strew of rocky debris.  
"As unexciting as it may seem, Captain, ONI has gotten Fleet's approval to assign Infinity to assisting efforts in this stellar location," Rich explained, tapping a few more commands. A simulated construction began, of some kind of massive object, obscured by the great fields of dust.

"May I speak freely, Admiral?" Lasky questioned.

"Granted, Captain," Rich nodded.

"It's a mighty big damn waste of resources to assign the Infinity to guard duty. While we might not be the most advanced ship in the fleet anymore, we're still the biggest and most heavily armed," Lasky voiced his doubts.

"It's not a permanent position," Rich dismissed his worries. "Nor will you hang around often. As you said, the Infinity is the largest ship in the UNSC fleet. The assembly of this space station here is another game changer we've got planned, using all that Forerunner tech we salvaged."

"The thing will be built piece by piece, then all you'll have to do is drag it in system," Curtyn explained. "pieces are around half a kilometer square big themselves, and acquiring all the tugs required to pull that mass, we'd get some unwanted attention."

"Obviously, this won't be a very long mission?" Lasky questioned and assumed.

"Moving that stuff carefully from the Ort Cloud to its destination will take a few weeks. We plan to ship it piece by piece, year by year. Between that, the Infinity will be placed on a various number of ops, but never taking it beyond the boundaries of UNSC space," Rich explained. "Altogether... might be a couple of decades."

"I understand, sir," Lasky nodded.

"We'll send the finer details to the Infinity's AI," Rich tapped his hands against the table's edge, turning off the device. "It's all very simplistic stuff, but our ever alert leader would like us to keep this construction off the radar. No one aboard the Infinity beyond you shall ever know of the true nature of just what we've doing."

"As far as the crew should be concerned, all your hauling is big chunks of metal," Rear Admiral Curtyn explained. "While we don't ever doubt your loyalties, an effort like this requires absolute minimal knowledge from the outside, much like the Infinity's own construction."

"I'll do my best to keep it classified, sir."

"Good, good," Rich nodded, stepping back to face Lasky. "In the meanwhile, you should enjoy your shore leave. Don't get to see Earth, much, huh?"

"That what be correct, Admiral," Lasky agreed.

"Dismissed, Captain," Rich waved the Captain away, turning back to the table. As Lasky left, Curtyn allowed his disappointment to show.

"What I wouldn't give to be back in the wooden-top navy, even on a dead boring task like that," Curtyn told him as he grasped the mug of coffee beside him, taking a swig of it.

"You'd regret it," Rich told him, picking up a folder beside the table, and withdrew a data chip. "Cease the battle simulation, system. Scrub all local records. Wouldn't want anyone else to take a really close look at this stuff."

"Affirmative Vice Admiral," the pleasant voice of some dumb AI responded back, erasing everything that had been undertaken here. In the future, Rich would be sure to see one of these high tech fleet simulations placed in a secure ONI center for enemy assessments, and out of the prying eyes of the Fleet. The smart AI here knew that any discussion between ONI personnel, whether it be top secret intelligence or the day's weather, was to be filtered out and not even recorded.

"One thing that simulation was missing," Curtyn voiced between sipping the coffee in his hands. Rich easily guessed it, but didn't voice it until he turned and surveyed the entire room was empty, their conversation not going to be overheard.

"The actual mindset of a Turian fleet commander," Rich nodded, taking his seat. "AI's mimicking their tactics, behavior and procedure is one thing, the actual real deal is another."

"You're right, there," Curtyn nodded in agreement, finishing the coffee and placing the mug down. "Simulations or no simulations, we, and our commanders, will still have no idea how a Turian; or any other of these alien bunch, think."

"That's the study group to work out," Rich pointed out, "and Halsey's V Program has given us quite some insight to real behavior one cannot simply gather from a source as unreliable as an open network."

"Children's behavior," Curtyn snorted. "The damn entire program is a big risk... and the payoff is too far away in my opinion. It will be a decade until they will be operational, and in that time, we could have amassed a significant proxy presence in the Systems Alliance for the same effort."

"Infiltrating a bloated coalition of bureaucrats routinely crushed under the heel of public opinion is one thing," Rich acknowledged, "but infiltrating deep into alien space, it's very heart, is another entirely, which can only be accomplished by one who looks like them, and is capable of easily mixing among the natives."

"You may be right," Curtyn nodded in agreement, "but bringing back Halsey was another gamble. She'll only be useful for a time you know. As soon as your finished training them, I more than recommend that we request CINCONI dispose of her for good. The last thing we need is another incident like last time."

"You discount possibilities of success," Rich replied, confidently clasping his hands together. "While I do have no illusions that it's a plan that can't go wrong, I do however, see the potential in continuing to train a second, even beyond that, multiple generations of such agents. Using non-human infiltrators placed in foreign territory could become a major function of ONI for intelligence gathering."

At that Curtyn simply scorned. He liked the idea of old fashion stealth warfare, sneaking through the vast blackness of space, hitting the enemy from the distance. Operating through agents infiltrating foreign and possibly hostile territory seemed too... risky and disastrous in case anything went wrong.

"This could go wrong in a hundred different ways, and I won't even question the flaws outlined in your subject selection," Curtyn rose to his feet, quite ready to leave. "But I warn you again about Halsey. If you want another generation, simply select out a subject as the new program head, improve upon the training structure, like the Spartan III program."

"Ackerson had no idea what he was doing," Rich commented, still seated. "By now, you've obviously seen the orders handed down by Parangosky?"

"Foolish, but she doesn't make mistakes," Curtyn replied, his old crinkled face forming a deep frown. "Still, we've got the resources to pull the Infinity back to guard duty within the borders, yet we don't have it to simply cyro three hundred or so Spartans for a duration until we have need of them? Trust me, Ned, there's something else in this."

Rich didn't show any negative emotion, simply going an accepting nod. He then switched to codewords for the ONI AI that was probably monitoring them, unbeknownst to all others in the system. He checked his watch; a good old fashion analog cloak, and noted that the little hand had passed three. It was time to progress their conversation to another location.

"I accept our Admiral's judgement," Rich told him, standing up. He then dropped it among some chatter. "It's time we should be going. I have much to attend to elsewhere, back at Zero and all."

_Time to go elsewhere_

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Curtyn took the coffee cup off the table's edge. "The lab coats want to show off where all the tech we stole went."

It didn't suspicious at all, seeing his office was located in Zero Complex in ONI's scattered sites in Sydney. Back at Zero however, was a codeword his fellow conspirator would recognize instantly however. Curtyn only gave a nod, and Rich picked up a data chip off the desk and they left Fleetcom's Central Administration building as unnoticed as they arrived, going separate ways. They would regroup later however.

It was convenient that all the street cameras and various surveillance devices that the local government possessed; and therefore accessible to ONI, were disabled today as an urgent security update was installed to counter a recent breach by possible Insurrectionist hackers, giving Rich and a number of other individuals the invisibility they would need, off the wide array of surveillance completely. Usually, they could meet inside any ONI facility, but since an infiltrating AI was detected inside of the network, they could take no chances.

He'd stopped in a rather rundown public bathroom; where no monitoring devices were be installed, to swap from his plain uniform to a civilian attire, doing his best to not look anything that an keen eyed spy would recognize. Even though it was extremely unlikely they were being observed by the very organization they headed, they couldn't take any chances with someone as ruthless and paranoid as Admiral Parangosky.

Swapping into something that would look like a low ranking white collar worker, IT; the city was crawling with that, or something similar. Deeming his appearance well deviated from what anyone familiar with him would recognize as Vice Admiral Ned Rich, he continued on his way. The stereotypical paranoia of a spook constantly nagged him to look over his shoulder and look for anyone who'd been behind him far too long. For all he could know, just the average fly in the air could be some kind of surveillance drone.

_Extreme paranoia. The crucial qualification of any ONI personnel._

Quite happy with his disguise, perhaps feeling a tiny nostalgic to his previous field experience, he continued. It wasn't a far walk from a Mag-Train system, which took him far out beyond the urban condensation of the city itself into the surrounding light industrial areas.

Finding the rendezvous point, he passed through the security systems common amongst a small office among the industrial areas like this, and entered. Passed an abandoned reception, he met his comrade who summoned him here in the morning with only the instruction to bring Curtyn along as well. Rich alone was the only one in Section III who received communications to gather at meeting points.

"Good to see you made it," a tanned skinned man stepped forward and shook Rich's hand. He nodded.

"Good to see we are addressing the issues at hand," Rich replied.

"Curtyn arrived before you. We're all here," Jason Gratson told him, gesturing to the door that led to a conference room deep inside the building, windowless and also happened to be sound proofed and completely secure. Only better security could be found in Odin's eye.

Inside, he found Rear Admiral Curtyn already having arrived, wearing a similar disguise though lacking the effort of Rich's own, perhaps why he had gotten here earlier. Asides from him, four other men who'd probably only give him aliases sat. They each gave him a respectful nod as he sat amongst them.

Behind him, Gratson sealed the door and the counter intrusion systems came into place. They were secure as they ever were going to be.

"This is relevant to the recent news, isn't it?" Curtyn immediately questioned. "The Spartan III shutdown?"

"Not taking the obvious lies as fact, no actual reason is given," one of the unnamed men threw some document; possibly the report, on the table. "Budget? No shortage. Public relations? There can't be civilian casualties by a unit that doesn't even exist technically. Moral and Ethics? Never been a concern. Loyalty?" the man left that one hanging, before tapping on the document in front of him, "that is the question."

"Hard to control, yes," Jason Gratson stepped forward, finally taking his own seat at the head, "but a valuable resource, and one that is loyal to the core as long there is targets; preferably non-human, to shoot. Possibilities for putting the company into stand by through Cyro storage was obviously overlooked. I want the reason why."

"For that..." one of Gratson's subordinates muttered, "we have no idea."

"I've heard nothing, even trying to squeeze some answers out, but no luck," Rich told them, folding his arms and placing them on the table. "Nobody's going to say a whisper."

"Then, were going to have to play hunches until we can get some better Intel," Gratson nodded, looking at a document he picked up in his hand. "Let's assume, for some reason, that our Admiral was simply clearing house of the embarrassment that was the Spartan III Program, for the numerous reasons, mainly to cover Section III's involvement. We have currently, and looming to the inevitable event in the future, of coming into contact with an alien alliance that makes the Covenant Empire look like a hobbyist club, and our leadership... is throwing valuable experienced soldiers away?"

"In favor of weapons like Infinity," Curtyn commented, "for all the collection of big guns, we'll always need to fight the ground wars. Spartan IV's are sufficient enough these days, but we would need every experienced trooper in the fight if it ever came to it."

"Just another show of Parangosky's continued failures," Gratson gave the conference table a heavy smack with his hand. "I have reviewed all reports of Gamma Company, and have decided that once again, we're been taken in the wrong direction. I do believe it is time to do something more than chalk this up to the list?"

With that suggestion, Rich glanced among the group. Each of them mirrored his own, searching among their tight ranks for one who would look nervous at a time like this, to purge that weakness. He himself looked confident, while Curtyn was his usual stone faced self.

"Launching a conflicting order?" another no-name questioned.

"Correct," Gratson nodded, pointing down to the document sitting on the table in front of him. "I have prepared orders for one of our AI's to hand over to the Company Commander. After studying the upcoming operation, I've decided to change some directives."

"What I read," one man asked, "is that the Commander in charge is already aware of CINCONI pulling the plug. What if the Spartan decides to hand our AI's instructions off to an agent?"

"You're foolish to assume their that machine like," Gratson answered. "Dedicated and loyal, but willing to take whatever legitimate course of action possible to save their fellows. Whatever real leader would do anything else? Our authority outweighs that of already standing orders, anyway."

"As soon as ONI's agent gets back to them however, he'll see the ordered purge through," Curtyn stated. "If you are going to save these Spartans, you'll need them to go beyond UNSC jurisdiction, beyond the reach of ONI altogether. To do that they'd need to go rogue," Curtyn withdrew back from the table, shaking his head. "I'm all for saving them, but I don't want to see honorable UNSC personnel getting hurt in the process."

"We've been blessed with luck, to avoid such things," Gratson told them, "our former comrade, Agent Thompson Gilerson, is currently on the colony of New Brandenburg with rebel forces. With the Intel he's supplied them; dangerous Intel, they are currently preparing to launch a Rubble alike exodus operation, on a lesser scale, towards what they assume is some kind of Human space not under the control of the UNSC; actually as matter of fact: System's Alliance space, so they are on the run to perceived freedom... unfortunately for them, ONI drones in orbit will make that escape impossible. Fortunately for us, however, the Spartans will be launched in an operation to completely destroy such vessel. Our modifications to the fleet's orders, will see the ship captured instead of destroyed, allowing a mode of transport."

"Risky as always... but impressive," Curtyn agreed. "Though it disturbs me more than rebels have gained access to Intel about the existence of Citadel Space."

"All that they received was the coordinates for a single system and promise of a haven," Gratson assured him, "on the other side of the galaxy. That's why they need such a transport, to make what's probably for them, a decade long journey. Thankfully, Gilerson; always the moral champion, threw the lot in with our old associate Max Shawn... the classic heroic revolutionary leader," Gratson snorted with the obvious sarcasm.

"Good," Rich nodded, knowing how Brandenburg Liberation Army would deal with this. They were one of the few righteous bunch that thought other innies gave the cause of independent rule a bad reputation. They wouldn't share Intel with the likes of the United Rebel Front or any other bunch of terrorists.  
"Less clean up required."

"Parangosky is determined, to see New Brandenburg colony; only a collective eighty thousand, purged however... the Liberation Army seems to have come into the acquisition of non-existent WMD's," one of the agent's across the table nodded. "Not like that Intel is worth anything. As far as anyone else is concerned, all leaked knowledge of non-UNSC controlled Human space's existence will be rejected as ridiculous conspiracy theories, with no real proof to back it up."

"We'll easily see this done, then," Rich nodded in agreement. "Silence the leaks, back-stab Parangosky's efforts and save some Spartans in a single operation? Sounds more than agreeable."

"As always, your permission to undertake necessary action," Gratson slid a document over to Rich. He signed it with the pen clipped to his shirt, and passed it to Curtyn, who hesitated for a second, before placing his name alongside his co-conspirator. They passed it back to the Director.

He looked at it, and nodded, motioning for the agent beside him to hand him something.

Taking a seal, he placed the paper on the desk.

"Necessary action, authorized by senior command, for the better good of the UNSC."

Gratson stamped the document with the seal of the Office of Navel Intelligence, Section Zero.

* * *

Rich reclined back in his chair, gazing over the papers in front of him. Half of them were from Trevelyan facilities, reports on both technological findings as well as detailed week by week summaries by Ananke on the V Program's progress. He made a bad habit of only reading the summaries of these documents, tossing them into a piles to either be vaporized or sealed in proper security.

In his hand right now, a paper handed to him by Gratson was the new orders he wanted passed onto Gamma Company's commander. Sending it by an AI employed by Section Zero or an offical document would obviously pass it by a various ONI monitor, Human or AI, who would flag it. He however, was apart of Section III, recruited in the investigation. As far as he knew, nobody at ONI knew he even had met Gratson; Director of Internal Investigations.

His access to a wide range of AI's was also why he'd send this message. With the Intel they'd managed to extract from the spy AI on Trevelyan was that it was the only monitoring AI that Parangosky had placed within the Shield World. With that, it meant that choosing an AI from the many there would guarantee the best security. Rich shook his head as he scanned the document.

_The fate of our entire species is constantly at risk and here we are, spying and back stabbing each other. _

It was justified though. Section Zero had led an investigation against the CINCONI for nine years now, for various charges from corruption all the way up to war crimes and treason. While the Section could never present such findings and make the investigation public; not until they managed to acquire a piece of absolutely condemning evidence, and even then, it would be a hard struggle to have the head of the Office of Navel Intelligence removed; something never achieved before in the history of the UNSC. For now, Internal Investigations had decided to best deal with every problem as they arose, and counter them.

One problem at a time, that was the way it happened today. Despite a long career working under Parangosky, he harbored no respect for her or even approval of the current state of ONI. While there was a need for necessary evils, such as the Spartan Program, the way in which Parangosky manipulated with the post-war politics, and even gambled with the UNSC's security was a step too far. This latest travesty of massive proportions was too much to just stand by and not join in the murmur of discontent.

He finished scanning in the document to an encryption device which only a handful of his AI's and personnel possessed the decryption keys. It would make the document secure enough to pass on through the ONI network. Of which AI to pass it onto...

He easily chose Ananke. Writing reports, dealing with Halsey and watching the everyday goings on the ONI controlled Shield World of Trevelyan barely consumed a tiny fraction of the seventh gen AI's processing potential. A splinter could easily be detached to pass on Section Zero's new orders and nobody would notice the difference. On top of that, the channels which the Spartan Branch's AI's utilized was probably the least monitored.

Typing into the keyboard, he quickly arranged for the encrypted orders to be passed on, writing his own set of instructions for their delivery.

As soon as it was reported back to Parangosky that the orders had been tampered with, suspensions would immediately fall upon those who had the ability to do such things. Section Zero was made up of many different cells, and by protocol, was the opposite of transparent to even the highest ranking ONI brass. While they couldn't be implicated, it would bring more suspicion upon them. Still, Gratson thought it was worth it to preserve an asset as important as a company worth of Spartans.

It was taking a risk, but a calculated one at that. The orders would be handed over, and all would go as Section Zero planned. Rich couldn't help shake the feeling that this may be one risk to many.

* * *

Preparation for their latest, and possibly last, mission were like any other, though it had the sinking feeling, knowing this was a thing you would never see again. During the trip through Slip Space on an ONI _Sorcerer_ Class Assault Ship, the _Ember Alight_. An Assault Ship, as the Navy termed the armed troop carriers that carried ground forces between worlds, always had a tonnage between a Frigate and Destroyer, meant for the deployment of an entire brigade. Unlike a simple troop ship, it also could provide support with its fighter squadrons and fairly limited weapon systems. Shielding, once a dazzling alien mystery to every Human being when first seen utilized by the Covenant, was now standard gear fitted to each and every UNSC ship, new powerful generators built by the Engineer race that provided double the strength seen on the mightiest of Covenant warships.

An ONI Assault Ship however, was roughly the size of a Prowler, an infiltration and exfiltration craft meant for the deployment of special forces sizing anything between a platoon and a company, which was probably why all the Spartans of Gamma Company found the space quite tight. It was no Black Cat Prowler or the smaller Calypso exfiltration craft, but the Ember Alight would get them were they needed to go, and best of all: unseen. Weak enough shielding to be obliterated by a single torpedo of plasma however.

Currently, the Ember Alight was sitting in the Coorahae System, awaiting the UNSC battle-group that would accompany them to the colony of New Brandenburg, under the command of Vice Admiral Edison Varock . The world was a minor colony with a sparse rebel militia presence, though the Insurrectionists would however, launch a fleet of kamikaze ships to crash themselves into approaching warships, and buy the main force some time to escape the military's grasp.  
As far as ONI was concerned, no rebel of this particular group of rebels could be allowed to live another day.

So while the fleet was called together to stage a blockade of the small outer colony world, that left them simply docked with the outpost station, _Lisbon_. Kelly still couldn't figure out just why they were biding their time. The Innies weren't Covenant. They had sources and sympathizers on the inside, sources that would have obviously heard of the rallying of an entire battle-group. What was keeping them on the planet until the UNSC surrounded them?

The wait and lack of information was a slight frustration, compared to knowing the end of this operation would be a total betrayal of every soldier under her command. The Office of Naval Intelligence had crunched some numbers, decided that a bunch of psychotic suicide soldiers who just wouldn't die weren't worth the resources, and decided to simply rid of them to save some budget that was going to be spent repeating the same process elsewhere.  
Thinking about something like that was best pushed aside, especially when orders from ONI were none of your business, but the mind simply didn't work like that. How would ONI rid themselves of a company of Spartans? Sure, Gamma Company were going to be dropped straight into a fortified Insurrectionist army, but only rarely were the rebels coordinated enough to pose a challenge to Spartans. Currently, even the aliens were keeping their heads down; Brutes, Elites and the rest, and even then, there was no suicide mission in sight that ONI could spend them on.

A lie would deal the end more likely. Perhaps ONI simply wanted Navy ships in orbit to begin an orbital bombardment while they were still present on the planet. Anyone in ONI could lie about needing to immediately dismantle some rebel weapon of mass destruction planet side, friendly fire be damned. They would have what they wanted, three hundred dead Spartan III's that technically never existed as well as not a single rebel left breathing.

Getting those thoughts out of her head wasn't as easy as thinking elsewhere. She had little things to think of, that wouldn't lead back to that same line of thought. Would Gamma's end come suddenly and unexpectedly? Or would she have to standby, while they were diposed? If ONI was designing a new Spartan program with the training regimes of the second generation, then why was the third program being disposed? Why also start the forth program in the first place if they were simply going to backtrack?

A lot of questions and no answers bothered everyone.

While she was mulling over the impending doom of the company, the rest were all unaware and continuing their normal procedure. Members of Gamma Company exercised, cleaned equipment and rested. As psychotic as Doctor Halsey once judged them to be, as well as now all of ONI, nothing about Gamma appeared to be wrong when they were off the battlefield. They drilled, prepared and presented themselves as any should expect from a Spartan. It was only when adrenaline fired up in combat, did some individuals get... out of hand.

Never the less, they were under her command, as they had once been under the command of Kurt... even a Spartan as well disciplined as him wouldn't have stood for this. He could have convinced them otherwise, nor would have let Gamma Company fall this far to begin with. She should had done more to improve company morale and discipline when she had the chance.

As the last few hours of preparations progressed, Kelly simply could not focus elsewhere, unable to reach any concluded thought. Why had this information been dispersed to begin with, especially to her? It felt like some kind of test, perhaps a solid proof that they; and unlike the IV's, were immune to disloyalty and treason, the most solid evidence they could ever give to justify a fifth generation program...

The musings were interrupted by a rapid series of clicking, as the holographic projector sitting nearby hummed to life. The Ember Light's dumb AI manifested, the avatar representing it simply just a series of slinging weights that drove each other in a never ending chain. It stooped it's clicking for a second, and it was replaced with a picture of an Earth like planet guarded by spear and shield. It wasn't the flash priority transmission icon; crossed lightening bolts, and Kelly didn't recognize just what the symbol was meant to represent.

Finally, it disappeared, to be replaced by a new AI that rose up from the holographic pad. With a storm of wind, the artificial intelligence revealed itself to be female in silver ceremonial armor, looking very much alike to some Classic Age goddess. It greeted first, as was the usual place for AI's.

"Greetings, Spartan-087. I am MIL AI 8275, more commonly known as Ananke," the AI began with a polite bow. Kelly had seen Lisbon Station, and knew it didn't house a smart AI, and the Ember Light was the only UNSC ship in this system. If Ananke was a military AI; as evidenced the MIL tag, then where was she operating from? An armor suit? SPI armor didn't have such capabilities, though it made sense if there was one or two of ONI's IV's nearby, watching everyone closely.  
As if guessing all her inquisitions, Ananke answered.

"I am a specially designed unit, meant specifically for the V Program. I am Vice Admiral Rich's overseer on the Program, as well as assistant to Doctor Cathrine Halsey," Ananke explained.

Halsey... the same Halsey that she hadn't seen since ONI; more specifically Admiral Parangosky, had her imprisoned? If Ananke was both an overseer for a high ranking ONI officer as well as assisting Doctor Halsey, then the situation might just be the same. Was this V Program the next Spartan program mentioned by Agent Harrison?

More interestingly so, if Ananke was an overseer for the V Program, why was she here?

"So you're an ONI AI," Kelly finally responded, looking at the hologram. Unless they happened to rest by sheer coincidence in the same star system that ONI was using as a training ground for the new Spartans, then Ananke shouldn't be here at all. "More importantly, for the new Program. I'd like to know why you are here, and not there."

"The Program has significant backing, the latest technology..." Ananke dodged the question. "All AI's can create splinters of themselves. As one of the most latest designs incorporating Forerunner technology, my communication abilities are well beyond anything a specialist could have even predicted a century ago. I am still in my central data base, back with the project, but a splinter of me is here with you. More than just a set of dumb processes, but a splinter with the ability to converse and observe."

"It must be something considerable to take the effort of coming all the way out here," Kelly answered the AI, staring it's holographic eyes. It was a hard habit to break, even though any attempt to read an AI avatars body language was doomed to failure. They were smart enough to not communicate what they didn't want organics to see.

"Not quite, I was already at Lisbon Station before you arrived," Ananke disagreed. Some eye motion did occur for a second, the AI's eyes glancing around, not able to break its own programmed habit of moving its avatar's eyes around with its actual viewing ports. Yes, something was up. What exactly? Why was this new V Program AI here? A message from Doctor Halsey? Ananke answered that question.  
"See, I am an advanced seventh generation AI, one of the few assembled by the UNSC. The extent of my superior processing power, allows me to divide myself up between a series of tasks. While I am an AI of the Spartan V Program, that is not why I am here today. I am here on behalf of Vice Admiral Ned Rich, with a very... delicate, new number of orders."

New orders? From ONI? Something about this seemed very strange. If they wanted to issue new orders, even over the top of already existing mandates, they just handed it over in front of everyone, not try to fling in conflicting directives from the shadows and hoping the brass didn't notice.

"A new order?" she questioned, reconfirming what the AI had said, before putting forward an error in that. "As far as I know, the Spartan III program is not under the control of Vice Admiral Rich."

Ananke didn't respond, her avatar disappearing to be replaced be a comm logo. There was different symbols to represent different kinds of transmission communiques. This one however, she hadn't seen. On a second inspection, it appeared to be a a planet; most likely Earth from the looks of it, was guarded by a shield and a spear.

"If you are not aware, this symbol, even highly unrecognized by even the most seasoned ONI agents, is representative of a Section Zero mandate," Ananke explained. Kelly frowned, not being able to recount any chatter about Section Zero, ONI's internal investigation. Not knowing anything about a very important matter was a sure way to put any Spartan at unease.  
"I am deviated from my tasks to deliver highly classified Intel, to you, on the order of a Cell, which I cannot even divulge the operating code name of."

"But, your Vice Admiral is apart of this cell, right?" Kelly assumed. Ananke didn't answer immediately and her eyes flickered, as if studying her more closely as well.

"Yes," Ananke answered without complexity. A lie? Or a more cloudier truth? It couldn't matter. Spooks weren't known for sharing. Ananke continued.  
"Everything I tell you here today, is obviously highly classified, and not to be divulged to anyone, even superior officers, unless they give the appropriate code word: Exodus. Breach of this is grounds for immediate execution under the Security Act. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kelly simply nodded. It wasn't the first time highly classified information has passed before her, but the fact that this information couldn't even divulged to higher ranking comrades always made it seem shameful, a small; if unimportant and necessary, betrayal but a betrayal none the less.

"Good," Ananke nodded, slapping together her hands. "Now, as I previously revealed, I am here delivering orders from a top secret cell acting under the authority of Section Zero. This cell is made up of internal investigators, as well as a number of high ranking ONI and Fleet officers, formed only recently upon the secret orders of an Admiral who shall remain unnamed. The purpose of this cell is simple: to remove the current CINCONI."

This got immediately far too out of depth. ONI and Fleet politics were not something to get caught up in. Conspiring against the head of the organization was beyond traitorous.

"What you speak of, is treason," Kelly answered, leaning forward to stare straight face to face with the AI.

"This action is sanctioned by Order Z694, of the Internal Investigations Act of twenty four, twenty two," Ananke dismissed that claim. "This cell is secret however, as if Admiral Parangosky ever found that we were plotting, those who make up the cell would have disappeared in a single day. The corruption is deep to the point we must carry out our orders unbeknownst to the rest of ONI.

"On just what basis does this cell believe they have to attempt to remove the Admiral?" Kelly asked.

"Unknown to only a handful of high ranking officers within ONI, recently we have made first contact with a significant number of new neighboring alien civilizations," Ananke explained, folding her arms. "Instead of sharing this Intel with Fleet and the civilian Senate, as would be expected, the CINCONI chose to keep this information private to only those in the inner circle, to keep all the benefits from this contact to themselves."

"They uncovered new aliens, and didn't inform the UEG?" Kelly questioned what had already been stated, not able to grasp that. "How could ONI alone manage a first contact situation?"

"By making it a one way contact, that's how," Ananke told her. A list of statistics and personnel rosters appeared beside the AI's hologram. On top of that, a list of reports with text too small for even Kelly's enhanced eyesight to read appeared. "The acts which ONI has already committed against these galactic powers would be grounds of war if they ever found what we were doing. They are clueless while ONI has been extracting technological advances. The weapon you previously recovered in your previous op, was one of those stolen alien weapons, leaked to Insurrectionist forces. You would understand by now, that the current CINCONI's actions have compromised the UNSC's security, as well as our ability to fight."

"Your... reasons, for divulging this Intel to me?" Kelly questioned again. While it would be considered treasonous to be compromising the UNSC itself, there was no exact regulation that stopped the Office of Naval Intelligence from doing whatever the hell it wanted. Still, holding back such an enormity of information from the UEG seemed one step too far.

"As you have been recently informed, the CINCONI has recently approved orders for the termination and dismantling of the Spartan III Program. As you know, there are many much more obvious ways to cut back in the budget and keep necessary surplus forces. Keeping the Company in cryogenic storage for one, would be a much more apparent solution. We realize this, and feel that something far more galvanizing than a budget cut was the reason that CINCONI has chosen to sign your company's death warrant. This unjustified act is murder, and the cell has decided to sign its own orders to stop this from happening."

It was some small sense at last. There were so many better alternatives than scrapping an entire company's worth of Spartans.

"How exactly, would you do that?" Kelly questioned, slightly curious.

"Rebel forces are assembling an illegal star ship on the New Brandenburg colony. Previously, the navy and ONI would see it destroyed, but Section Zero wants the ship acquired, both as a tool and as a source of Intel. The Fleet Commander leading the attack has new orders to allow Gamma Company to remove the ship instead of it being destroyed."

"That's possible," she replied, nodding.

"Once you are away from Brandenburg, a proper AI will gather an intelligence possible from the ship. Once that is done, you are all to remain on standby until Section Zero deems it acceptable to return to service in Navspec operations. While that may be a long time frame, cyro should be available," Ananke explained.

"I understand."

"Indeed," the AI splinter acknowledged. "These new orders are now top priority, overruling any priorities to combat rebel operations. Preservation of Gamma Company is now your utmost concern. These orders are of top classification and are not to be divulged to anyone, ever, without clearance code. This communication now ends. See your orders completed, Spartan." The AI nodded before the hologram fizzled out and disappeared.

Before she could contemplate and think about what she had just been told, the dumb shipboard AI reappeared for a second.

"Splinter communication has now ceased and been summarily erased. Reconnection now impossible. If of non-classified priority importance, please make notes of communique. Messages will not be repeated."

It disappeared as well. The ONI AI; a messenger of Section Zero, had disappeared has quickly as it had appeared.

Funnily enough (or whatever could pass off as that), she didn't feel at all anything near relieved from that conversation. It felt more like been taken out of one approaching catastrophe and been catapulted into another. Still, as always, orders were orders.

The Section Zero mandate did indeed update the briefing orders passed down on the Tacpad, orders now been corrected from focusing on assaulting and destroying rebel positions to heading straight to the ship and seeing it taken into orbit. It was an improvement, definitely, but would accelerate them straight into the firing line of ONI's internal conflicts. If that was the price however, for saving the entire company, it was a risk that was almost ridiculous not to take.

* * *

**_Author Afterward:_  
**

**Another thread of the plot: internal conflict among ONI. Makes sense with what's going on, with even Section Zero getting involved.  
**

**Apolgies for taking so long to get an actual chapter posted. It began with not writing anything in the big release weeks (Halo 4's impact later...), and then getting bogged down in end of year assignments. This chapter was rewritten three times, as matter of fact. I wanted this element of the story of WHY ONI has internal conflict to be made clear, however much that may take, and make it seem like ONI has some way to deal with the absolute dictatorship of whoever is CINCONI at the time.  
**

**After playing Halo 4, I decided to let a include a few elements (Lasky as Captain of Infinity, Forerunner Tech, etc), but I wanted to keep it based in the traditional aftermath of Halo 3 scenario (Sanghelios not constantly in civil conflict, Master Chief gone, Forerunners still unknown to most of the galaxy) for the sake of story later on.  
**


	8. Amendment

**Amendment**

Alrighty. Yea, you've clicked on this link to read the latest chapter and you're disappointed that there isn't any. I feel your pain, and understand. It's been awhile since I last updated this fic. A lot of responsibilities have got in the way, and have left little time for purely recreational writing. However, the flag of defeat isn't being raised.

Truth is, Chapter V has existed for months now. In fact, five different drafts of it have been written. Each one was discarded half completed. From the battle of New Brandenburg, the still ailing Citadel, the top secret Onyx-Trevlyn Shield World, to even Illium. Each one, I'm trying, trying to tell the next chapter but failing to see it through. Truth is, they haven't been up to scratch. I'm trying to avoid both boring or likewise, cringe-worthy moments (if I had the chance, I'd rewrite all the Shepard sections over again. They are currently simply just awful...)

This doesn't mean Kin From The Stars is completely dead. Well... it's kinda currently dead like a fish, but I've put some recent effort in to a sixth draft of Chapter Six, incorporating a few new scenes here and there, plus using a lot of my previously drafted content, currently sitting at about five thousand words, so maybe an actual Chapter V is possible on the horizon. It's not like I don't know what to write. I have a clear path for this story, but life has left me with little opportunity to tell it.

So I'd just like to confirm the lack of activity for now. I've got things stacking up, so I'll be needing to finish them off before I can get back to this.

At best, I can guess Chapter V will be up by next Sunday, followed by a more steady stream of updates. So until then, just know that Kin From the Stars will be back, at some point in the future. Till then, bye.

_**UPDATE**_

Actually, to amend some ache on the fake update, here's an excerpt from the upcoming Chapter V. Just to make this a worthwhile read.

**CHAPTER V PREVIEW**

* * *

_Traditionally our creators have been reluctant to take outsiders' advice; nation to nation, culture to culture. Their history is littered with empires, crumbling for want of simple openness to so-called 'foreign beliefs and innovations'. The question is: can this Assembly still function as adequate stewards to our creator's latest empire and remain aloof? The answer, we believe, is no. - Majority of the Assembly_

* * *

There was a rare radiance of tranquility in this office suite, the majestic view giving a sweeping view of Sydney, a city that, while still scarred by Covenant orbital bombardments, has rebuilt and even prospered following the end of the Covenant War. Beyond the cluster of sky-scrapers that dominated the coast, further inland was only endless stretches of low-rises, suburbia and industrial estates.

Despite the environmental turmoil of the early twenty first century, and later, war scars, the capital of the United Earth Government remained the most pristine corner of the planet. The ocean still glittered a marvelous blue.

Of course, Osman doubted this view might even be real. Admiral Parangosky has the paranoia of legend, and it wouldn't be surprising if what were seen as windows were really high-def screens, or even a hologram. Inside the office of ONI's Director, Parangosky's aging fingers grasped an antique teacup, slowly drinking the coffee within. The way her withered hands shook as it grasped the cup was just another unpleasant reminder of the unstoppable march of age.

"You'd stop staring at my hands like that, Serin," Parangosky suddenly spoke up, surprising her guest. "Trust me, you'll no doubt be just as withered at my age," a smile played across the old Admiral's face. No matter how much physical decay the body showed, Parangsoky's mind was as sharp and alert as ever.

"Sorry, but it's... quite noticeable," Osman answered. This day and age, she wished Parangosky would simply resign her post. Despite an almost faltering of health just a few years ago, something kept her alive and going, as if something was incomplete. Maybe it was the stress and weight of the 'contact', that had kept Parangosky sticking around. It seemed, the UNSC and peace were two words never to be united.

"Physicality is something nobody should be worried about this day and age..." Parangosky muttered, placing down her cup. "Oldest man alive lived till two hundred! Damn if I'm going to be measured up for a coffin at only over a hundred..."

"The mandatory retirement age," Osman gave that little reminder. Parangosky only ignored it, turning slightly to gaze out to the view.

"Too many things to see finished," Parangosky simply told her. "It's not that I don't trust you to uphold what I've built, but... there are things I have yet to find answers for, that we must have answers for."

"The Contact threat," Osman simply stated.

"More than that. We still never happened what happened to the Chief, poor soul..." Parangosky noted. The Chief himself had been MIA since the New Phoenix incident in twenty five, fifty eight, last being seen on Ivanoff Station's surveillance, taking a Broadsword in pursuit of a Forerunner Cruiser with a warhead. The same warhead that was detonated inside the Cruiser as it unleashed its energy weapon on Earth. Neither the Chief nor the Forerunner he was reported to have been pursuing were ever seen again.

Months later, the Infinity returned to Requiem and found no resistance, just an empty Shield World. There weren't even Engineers like on Onyx. Requiem was just an empty shell. It was presumed that the Covenant fanatics simply dissolved back into Sangheili space following the defeat of their deity, their leader Jul 'Mdama disappearing. The Prometheans disappeared, never to be encountered again anywhere in the galaxy, giving credence to the theory that they had all perished in the destruction of their capital ship.

Osman remembered Parangosky's own concerns that the threat had never really ended, that ONI still suspected that the Forerunners were still out there, somewhere, biding their time, waiting... for something. Perhaps that was the ghost that still haunted her. As for the Chief himself... he'd been through so much and faced down so many impossible odds, that nobody would ever be convinced that he was dead until they saw a body.

"We still have so much to find in this galaxy, and so many threats to quash," Parangosky noted, almost sighing. "I doubt I'll ever see Humanity safe."

Osman remained silent, uncomfortably. It was certainly true, that they would never see true peace anywhere in their life times, especially while they were simply stalling for time in the face of the coming storm. They needed an answer. A permanent answer to the Contact threat that would end the tension that had been boiling ONI from the inside for over a year now.

"Humanity. That's a tricky word to apply, knowing what we know," Parangosky finally continued. "As much common ground we have with our... relatives, I doubt we'll ever really embrace each other."

"It's not just them we're facing trouble from," Osman reminded her. Not just Insurrectionists now, but the traitors within their very organization.  
"I've heard mummers of... discontent," Osman stated. Of course, it was extremely difficult for her to pick up such information. Being Parangosky's protege, she was possibly the person that any conspirator within ONI would least likely involve. Hearing it only passed on through various Officers, it was only indescribable whispers of rebellion against ONI's current director.

"I know," Parangosky simply answered. "I'm not surprised that its spread so far and wide. We're lucky we have as little leaks as we've encountered thus far."

"New Brandenburg?" Osman questioned. "I heard that you put forward plans-"

"To crush this Insurrection with a finality," Parangosky cut her off. "We'll remove all UNSC personnel and as many civilians as possible, but I can not take the slightest of chances that one rebel could escape. Not with the security of the entire UNSC on the line. Not with the information they have."

"And, I heard, what you plan as the solution to the Three problem," Osman then added, hesitantly. There was a time when she thought Parangosky's secrets stretched no higher than the UNSC Infinity's construction. Everything, even information as sensitive as the Contact Threat had been shared. That Parangosky would address the issue with the Spartan Three program without a murmur, was disconcerting, especially to her.

Parangosky returned a glance that could break glass. Apparently, that was one topic that was untouchable between them.

"God forbid, that a day could come where I would hand off some of the best soldiers we've ever seen to make the budget stretch..." Parangosky commented, confirming Osman's worse fears. She honestly hoped, that it was inaccurate information. But then, Parangosky continued."When that day comes, I'll know I've gone mad. Maybe I already have. But, today, even to you Osman, the solution to the issue is something I can't discuss. Not yet, until the operation is concluded."

That vague statement was puzzling and troubling. Parangosky didn't deal in vague terms, but this time, it was something that would be kept under key until the smoke cleared.

"On the topic of Spartans," Parangosky continued to speak, undaunted by what had just been said, "I know you also paid a visit to our dear old Doctor."

"I simply wish I'd known about it much sooner. Especially with the history between us all and Doctor Cathrine Halsey," Osman replied. "Years ago, you were content to lock her up and throw the key into a black hole."

"Times change," Parangosky shrugged. "I've honestly come to a better understanding now than I ever did. We'll never be free of our crimes, and desperate times seem in abundance these days."

Osman had little choice but to agree. She didn't like Halsey, not a single bit, but... there was a point to what they had unleashed her for. With how events were rapidly transpiring these days, Osman wondered if Halsey would even have the chance to deploy her new Spartan V's before Contact happened.

"I've come to that understanding too. We are getting particularly desperate."

"If I could wind back the cloak, I'd do it again," Parangosky said, but added, "without the mistakes. Too much unnecessary blood was shed along the way, like the Charnara Incident... but, we're only only step closer to the answer."

"And you think Halsey's new Spartans are that answer?"

Parangosky thought on that one, before speaking. "They are apart of the answer. I wouldn't be surprised if we reached the point of war, but even if we avoid that, there will be much strife on the road ahead.


	9. Act I:V Assured Destruction

**Chapter V: Assured Destruction**

* * *

_Traditionally our creators have been reluctant to take outsiders' advice; nation to nation, culture to culture. Their history is littered with empires, crumbling for want of simple openness to so-called 'foreign beliefs and innovations'. The question is: can this Assembly still function as adequate stewards to our creator's latest empire and remain aloof? The answer, we believe, is no. - Majority of the Assembly_

* * *

There was a rare radiance of tranquility in this office suite, the majestic view giving a sweeping view of Sydney, a city that, while still scarred by Covenant orbital bombardments, has rebuilt and even prospered after the end of the Covenant War. Beyond the cluster of skyscrapers that dominated the coast, further inland was only endless stretches of low-rises, suburbia and industrial estates.

Despite the environmental turmoil of the early twenty-first century, and later, war scars, the capital of the United Earth Government remained the most pristine corner of the planet. The ocean still glittered a marvelous blue.

Of course, Osman doubted this view might even be real. Admiral Parangosky has the paranoia of legend, and it wouldn't be surprising if what we're seen as windows were really high-def screens, or even a hologram. Inside the office of ONI's Director, Parangosky's aging fingers grasped an antique teacup, slowly drinking the coffee within. The way her withered hands shook as it grasped the cup was just another unpleasant reminder of the unstoppable march of age.

"You'd stop staring at my hands like that, Serin," Parangosky suddenly spoke up, surprising her guest. "Trust me, you'll no doubt be just as withered at my age," a smile played across the old Admiral's face. No matter how much physical decay the body showed, Parangsoky's mind was as sharp and alert as ever.

"Sorry, but its... quite noticeable," Osman answered. This day and age, she wished Parangosky would simply resign her post. Despite an almost faltering of health just a few years ago, something kept her alive and going, as if something was incomplete. Maybe it was the stress and weight of the 'contact', that had kept Parangosky sticking around. It seemed, the UNSC and peace were two words never to be united.

"Physicality is something nobody should be worried about this day and age..." Parangosky muttered, placing down her cup. "Oldest man alive lived till two hundred! Damn if I'm going to be measured up for a coffin at only over a hundred..."

"The mandatory retirement age," Osman gave that little reminder. Parangosky only ignored it, turning slightly to gaze out to the view.

"Too many things to see finished," Parangosky simply told her. "It's not that I don't trust you to uphold what I've built, but... there are things I have yet to find answers for, that we must have answers for."

"The Contact threat," Osman simply stated.

"More than that. We still never happened what happened to the Chief, poor soul..." Parangosky noted. The Chief himself had been MIA since the New Phoenix incident in twenty-five, fifty-eight, last being seen on Ivanoff Station's surveillance, taking a Broadsword in pursuit of a Forerunner Cruiser with a warhead. The same warhead that was detonated inside the Cruiser as it unleashed its energy weapon on Earth. Neither the Chief nor the Forerunner he was reported to have been pursuing were ever seen again.

Months later, the Infinity returned to Requiem and found no resistance, just an empty Shield World. There weren't even Engineers like on Onyx. Requiem was just an empty shell. It was presumed that the Covenant fanatics simply dissolved back into Sangheili space following the defeat of their deity, their leader Jul 'Mdama disappearing. The Prometheans disappeared, never to be encountered again anywhere in the galaxy, giving credence to the theory that they had all perished in the destruction of their capital ship.

Osman remembered Parangosky's own concerns that the threat had never really ended, that ONI still suspected that the Forerunners were still out there, somewhere, biding their time, waiting... for something. Perhaps that was the ghost that still haunted her. As for the Chief himself... he'd been through so much and faced down so many impossible odds, that nobody would ever be convinced that he was dead until they saw a body.

"We still have so much to find in this galaxy, and so many threats to quash," Parangosky noted, almost sighing. "I doubt I'll ever see Humanity safe."

Osman remained silent, uncomfortably. It was certainly true, that they would never see true peace anywhere in their life times, especially while they were simply stalling for time in the face of the coming storm. They needed an answer. A permanent answer to the Contact threat that would end the tension that had been boiling ONI from the inside for over a year now.

"Humanity. That's a tricky word to apply, knowing what we know," Parangosky finally continued. "As much common ground we have with our... relatives, I doubt we'll ever really embrace each other."

"It's not just them we're facing trouble from," Osman reminded her. Not just Insurrectionists now, but the traitors within their very organization.  
"I've heard mummers of... discontent," Osman stated. Of course, it was extremely difficult for her to pick up such information. Being Parangosky's protege, she was possibly the person that any conspirator within ONI would least likely involve. Hearing it only passed on through various Officers, it was only indescribable whispers of rebellion against ONI's current director.

"I know," Parangosky simply answered. "I'm not surprised that its spread so far and wide. We're lucky we have as little leaks as we've encountered thus far."

"New Brandenburg?" Osman questioned. "I heard that you put forward plans-"

"To crush this Insurrection with a finality," Parangosky cut her off. "We'll remove all UNSC personnel and as many civilians as possible, but I can not take the slightest of chances that one rebel could escape. Not with the security of the entire UNSC on the line. Not with the information they have."

"And, I heard, what you plan as the solution to the Three problem," Osman then added, hesitantly. There was a time when she thought Parangosky's secrets stretched no higher than the UNSC Infinity's construction. Everything, even information as sensitive as the Contact Threat had been shared. That Parangosky would address the issue with the Spartan Three program without a murmur, was disconcerting, especially to her.

Parangosky returned a glance that could break glass. Apparently, that was one topic that was untouchable between them.

"God forbid, that a day could come where I would hand off some of the best soldiers we've ever seen to make the budget stretch..." Parangosky commented, confirming Osman's worse fears. She honestly hoped, that it was inaccurate information. But then, Parangosky continued."When that day comes, I'll know I've gone mad. Maybe I already have. But, today, even to you Osman, the solution to the issue is something I can't discuss. Not yet, until the operation is concluded."

That vague statement was puzzling and troubling. Parangosky didn't deal in vague terms, but this time, it was something that would be kept under key until the smoke cleared.

"On the topic of Spartans," Parangosky continued to speak, undaunted by what had just been said, "I know you also paid a visit to our dear old Doctor."

"I simply wish I'd known about it much sooner. Especially with the history between us all and Doctor Cathrine Halsey," Osman replied. "Years ago, you were content to lock her up and throw the key into a black hole."

"Times change," Parangosky shrugged. "I've honestly come to a better understanding now than I ever did. We'll never be free of our crimes, and desperate times seem in abundance these days."

Osman had little choice but to agree. She didn't like Halsey, not a single bit, but... there was a point to what they had unleashed her for. With how events were rapidly transpiring these days, Osman wondered if Halsey would even have the chance to deploy her new Spartan V's before Contact happened.

"I've come to that understanding too. We are getting particularly desperate."

"If I could wind back the cloak, I'd do it again," Parangosky said, but added, "without the mistakes. Too much unnecessary blood was shed along the way, like the Charnara Incident... but, we're only only step closer to the answer."

"And you think Halsey's new Spartans are that answer?"

Parangosky thought on that one, before speaking. "They are apart of the answer. I wouldn't be surprised if we reached the point of war, but even if we avoid that, there will be much strife on the road ahead. If a solution isn't found... the UNSC is good as finished."

That was the hardest to swallow. Even during the darkest days of the war, when the Covenant firmly held Earth and the remaining days were numbered, Parangosky had never voiced something so hopeless, so cynical. This was a threat on an entirely different level to the Covenant. Whereas the Prophets promised physical destruction, this new threat would shatter the very foundations that their entire species had built upon for hundreds of years now. In the view of many, it would even strip away the last fledging scraps of justification the UNSC had to uphold itself.

That itself, made Osman bitter with the fact. That someone could simply come along, with only a bare fifth of the experience, and all they had to present was a flawed, failing system, that would shatter over four hundred years of her civilization's progress. That was a total frustration It was like they were being treated as_ inferior_, the entire UNSC, as if they had to curl up and hide from a nasty truth they couldn't face.

In truth, they_ were cowering_. ONI was cowering. Humanity was cowering. That shouldn't be allowed to stand.

"We shouldn't consider ourselves inferior to them," Osman finally voiced. "We've achieved so much more. We are stronger."

"More arrogant too," Parangosky added, putting a whole new harsher turn on the conversation. That was an unexpected barb. Parangosky continued as if the whole thing had gone over Osman's head.  
"We can't trust in military, technological, industrial or even ONI's prowess at this point. When the inevitable day comes, save a miracle, the battle will be fought on a different field."

"Then the point of our continuing weapons research? Unleashing Halsey?" Osman questioned.

"They will be entirely new weapons, built for this new war," Parangosky explained. "They aren't conventional resources, none that the wooden top navy should even know about. They are resources built for shattering the enemy's resolve and capability. As a last option... a game changer, something that would remove the threat permanently."

Could the System's Alliance, and in larger effect: the entire Citadel Space be capable of countering or even detecting a sudden, brutal assault? Did they have any defenses that could stop a NOVA Warheads from obliterating their worlds? While the UNSC had developed technologies that specialized in detecting such high-radiation weapons, had the System's Alliance ever considered such an unforeseen event could occur? Seeing as they had only just invented a limited form of stealth craft, it was unlikely they ever had contingencies beyond waging conventional warfare. They were totally unprepared in the event of assault by a technologically advanced power.

It was a wonder they survived this long, but then again, all the System's Alliances neighbours shared the same lack of intellect, to go beyond the conventional. Even the Reapers in arrogance had discarded the advantage they held, to simply blindly leap into the fray and engage their enemies on the same level of combat.

"If it came down to it, we'd be prepared to wipe out our... brethren species in such an act?" Osman asked inquisitively.

"There is one thing to understand for it to make sense," Parangosky explained. "It is our duty to protect the UNSC and its people by any means possible. In our place, they would do the same. Think about in the Cold War, neither did not hesitate nor back down. If it came down to it, if the first strike was launched, the others would return fire, even if their own people, their nation, were already doomed to die. They would condone millions more, unnecessary, to death in nuclear fire. Why? Because the alternative is to simply die. To let the enemy win."

Parangosky simply left the comparison there, sighing. "That is the last resort. All our hopes ride upon a solution."

* * *

The only thing that outweighed Thompson Gilerson's phobia of being in buried in the collapse of some unstable underground lair, was that of being simply being killed straight up. Thus, risking being buried alive was an acceptable trade today. In the makeshift command center at the heart of a commandeered UNSC facility, he pushed those thoughts aside as he listened to the comm piece on his ear.

The Air Force was on the move, gearing up on a squadron of Aircraft Carriers not too far from the mainland now. The colossal seafaring vessels were deployed from special carrier ships of their own, dropped into the oceans of colony worlds to provide quick and instantly established bases for in-atmosphere fliers. One could be landed on a dissident colony and be expected to be the only base the UNSC forces needed to secure the planet, each carrier capable of launching a compartment of six hundred unmanned Drone fighters as well as a hundred Human manned fighter jets.  
Three Carrier's worth? How many aircraft were they planning on launching?

He breathed out heavily, placing the earpiece on the table in front of him. It was undeniable. They were coming.

In his own anxiety, he found his heart beating rapidly and his fingers curling and tapping his palms. He was scared, yes.

"The Air Forces rallying only proves that the Navy really is planning to come for us," former Brigadier General Max Shawn swirled the mug of coffee in his hands. The rebel commander glared in Thompson's direction.  
"You know there's quite slim chance of us coming out of here, alive, right?"

"I understand that perfectly," Thompson responded, glancing up at the general. Max only frowned, still shaking the coffee around as he seemed deep in thought. The both of them stewed in the silence as seconds past. In a situation such as this, time was valuable commodity that couldn't be spent lightly. They had been caught out, unexpectedly. The UNSC knew what they were up to, and struck hard and fast without any prior sign of warning. Worst of all, they were stuck firmly groundside.

"The mechanics down in launch, told me that we aren't going anywhere for the next two hours. Not until they get those Slip Space drives properly activated," Max told him, leaning against the desk. Two hours might be time they didn't have. While they should have been prepped to go anytime, those Slip Space drives had only been fitted two weeks before, and the mechanics were still adjusting them to make sure that they worked one hundred percent, as sure as they could be without actually taking the ship for a test flight.

They couldn't launch any Freighter with the coördinates. The UNSC still held a firm grasp over all inter-system travel and, as well, there wasn't enough fuel in the most advanced freighter's to reach the target they desired. They had spent months acquiring the correct; untagged and unregistered, parts and configuring them onto their ship, a repaired Stead Class Freighter Chassis. While a military Corvette could make the trip, and in half the time, such fuel compression and Slip Space technologies were military secrets, the discrepancies in performance between civilian and military vessels only growing larger and larger following the end of the Covenant War.

They themselves had to fit multiple Slip Space drives and expanded fuel tanks onto the chassis simply to get the performance needed to reach their destination. Even so, they'd only be taking himself, Max and two dozen personnel for a eight year cyro trip that would hopefully change Human history.

"With those Frigates about, you really think we'll be able to clear the atmosphere in time?" Thompson asked, the former ONI Agent scowled.

"Clearing the atmosphere? Slight chance..." Max shook his head, finally taking a sip of his hot drink as he gathered his words. He finally returned his eyes back to Thompson.  
"If we can't however, I'm willing to risk an in-atmosphere jump..."

"You are aware of the fallout from our drive configuration, correct?" Thompson glanced up, understanding what that implied. An in-atmosphere jump with a drive their size and scale, would cause immense fallout, if not a Slip-Space bubble burst, just like when that Covenant Carrier had jumped in the midst of New Mombasa during the war.

''I am aware," Max told him, "and I believe it's worth it. If this could very well be the thing that changes the course of our rebellion, I'd damn well do it to a dozen worlds, if only to liberate a hundred more."

''Understandable," Thompson gave a short nod, though in truth, he couldn't agree. The whole point of this, was that they could be able to take a chance that could see Earth overthrown, but not destroyed, as well as the colonies. Still, it was their fault for forcing them to this decision. It would be worth it.

He was a spook, formerly, when the United Nations Space Command actually had reason to be. Like many personnel that had joined the various departments, when the Covenant War was over, he'd never been supportive of the continuing policy against colonial rebels. He himself... chose to stay, if only to stop some blood thirsty innies bombing Earth like they did Mamore. Just because he didn't agree with the government, didn't mean he wanted to see his home destroyed.  
He continued to do his duty, work for ONI. Thompson knew he had convinced himself it was the best for all of them. That had been shattered less than seven months ago.

When he had simply been an agent handling materials for the Beta-Three group, and curiosity between him and some fellow agents went a little too far, what he had uncovered had been shocking and beyond unexpected. If ONI was preparing to deal with a more free Humanity and their allies, which possibly together outdid the post Covenant War UNSC in terms of territory and resources...

It was a revelation. If the right rebels; good people with the good cause, could gain access to that information... a transition to a less totalitarian government became more a pipe-dream. It wasn't the first time he'd considered something treasonous, but it was the first time it appealed to him. It was sensible. It was logical. A powerful foreign force, benevolently intentioned or not, would either finally provide the death blow to the UNSC's iron fisted rule, through any action. All people needed to know was that there was a better way of life out there and a way to transition there that didn't involve dying in fruitless, scattered and doomed rebellions.

He'd done his research, read through ONI's files on just the right people to contact. Maximilian Shawn had fought in the army for most of the Covenant War, and his career had pinnacled at serving as a Brigadier General. Unlike most of the senior command, he'd never been apart of the army during the pre-war Insurrection, and immediately after the Covenant War, he had retired back to his home colony of New Brandenburg, to become a very loud spoken critic of the UNSC's policy on colonial affairs.  
After two years of being ignored completely, and being reduced to nothing but a footnote in the local paper, he fell off the radar, eventually emerging again after fours years a adviser for New Brandenburg Liberation Army, a more ideological group who simply wanted the UNSC off their turf. When ONI bit back, successfully eliminating the Liberation Army leader; some inexperienced militia leader, a more dangerous foe in the form of the former General rose to replace him. Successfully driving the government out of particular regions, the Liberation Army became a serious concern, but nothing compared to the rebel planets like Venezia, who were armed with Covenant weaponry and intent on taking a militant stance against Earth. They'd been ignored, until recently.

Now, they held something more dangerous than a NOVA warhead. They held the key; these simple set of coordinates, to a better existence to all, a liberation. It wouldn't have surprised him if ONI's first thought was to nuke the planet entirely, burn every last scrap of evidence to pieces. New Brandenburg was little in the way of a tactical asset. It was an ailing colony which agricultural potential never proved to be as good as the first surveyors originally thought. But ONI wasn't bloody thirsty, and the deployment of Special Forces would only guarantee a more focused, controlled burn.

"I'm going to be with the ship," Max finally spoke again. "This command center won't hold long. Are all of your preparations set?"

Thompson paused, rethinking it all, before answering, "Yes. I've handed over everything I have left, to your men."

That itself was a lie. He'd handed over every last bit he'd 'requisitioned' from ONI, all for one device. He had thought of sharing that too, but he couldn't take the chance, and this was personal. If they did die, and they didn't succeed in reaching their destination... then the information that their enemies so desperately sought would end up in the hands of a person he knew he could trust... and the names of others he knew could remount the effort they made here. Still, he'd set the Slip-Space Self-Mobile COM Probe on standby for ten years. There was no point sending others into the abyss if they had in fact made the trip, and in ten years time, they would either be in shallow graves or returning back home victorious.

"Good, good," Max nodded, finally turned around. "We'll give em hell." He gestured around, pointing away. "All right! We're packing up everyone! Move everything to the ship!"

Various personnel began packing up electronic systems, readouts and radios. Most of the crucial equipment had already been moved to the bridge of their new vessel. As of now, they rushed to remove what little they had left behind. They would have to abandon the COM Interception gear, as it was too heavy to transport, and most likely the way ONI had tracked them down. Thompson spent his last moments in the temporary center listening in as best as he could, waiting to hear some command go through the channels for the attack to begin. When it finally came, it brought chills to his heart.

_"UNSC Idella, this is Groundside Task Force. Sierra-Gamma has begun the attack._

* * *

Even underneath his helmet which filtered out unnecessary audio, Isaiah could still hear the whirling of the Falcon's blades as they sped over the Tyren Ocean, on the colony of New Brandenburg. They fit quite well in the Falcon's troop bay, with the three man strong Scimitar Team sharing the ride with a pair of Headhunter Operatives.

When they touched down on the shoreline, the Headhunters were going to do the target hunting, while the main Company strong force would decimate the innies all around the place. It had been a few years since all of Gamma Company had all their boots in the same combat zone, as well as their Headhunter comrades to back them up.

"Once we land, it's head crushing time, right Boss?" Chris questioned through their helmet comms, using the boss moniker for their squad leader they had since training. They were all thankful that Chris had recovered from their previous encounter with that rouge Spartan IV, and it was notable that he had changed slightly... less restraint. It was a path that Isaiah had seen too many of the company follow.

"Eager to get back in the fight?" Isaiah asked, gripping his own weapon, the MA5K, one of the weapons most familiar to Gamma Company.

"I won't lie to you, sir. Hell yes," Chris nodded as far as his helmet would allow him to throw his head back and forward. "Killing the same bastard that armed that snake? We got to admit, this is personal."

"Don't lose your cool, Scimitar," Isaiah responded, "we are not letting the Commander down this time. Stay focused. Once we land, we'll be following up and providing support for these Headhunters here," he nodded to the two of them sitting on the edge of the Falcon's troop bay edge. The pair seemed to be having their own private conversation between each other through their helmet comms.

"Wouldn't dream of failure, sir!" David gave his own eager nod, striking the end of the SAW Light Machine gun against the Falcon's deck. The large clatter of the heavy weapon striking metal caused one of the Headhunters to glare back at them for a second before turning back to look out to the ocean waves, which were rolling now as they got closer to the mainland, which rose on the horizon.

_"All teams?" _the Commander called over the comm channels. Her voice sounded unusually strained, but loud none the less. _"First assault wave shall be touching down in only five minutes now. Keep to your objective, and get this job done, Gamma. Failure is not an acceptable outcome."_

The comm channel closed and they were left for the wait. They could all see the beaches growing larger and larger on the horizon. Any other day, it might have been what was considered as a tropical paradise. White sands, palm trees and a sparkling blue ocean. That wasn't now however. Smoke was already rising up from destroyed Insurrectionist fortifications that stood between the beaches and jungles. Usually, the heavy batteries installed in those bunkers would have stopped even a low atmosphere Frigate from coming anywhere near close, but the UNSC Air Force had struck hard and fast.

Now broken concrete littered everywhere from the shoreline to the where the sands crossed into the thick tropical jungle, which was already aflame. At least they were certain that few rebels were still standing. Gamma would run right over them. All audio began to be blocked out as a flurry of new commands shot across the COM. The landings began.

_"Falcon Bravo Four, reporting. Deployment immediate"_

Their Falcon didn't land, but passed over low and slowing. Scimitar rose to their feet, and grasped their weapons firm. The Headhunters waited on the edge for the moment. As soon as they passed over the water, onto the sandy beaches, they leaped. This action was repeated for the entirety of all the landed forces. Dozens of squads were deployed, the Falcons quickly rising back up into the air and laying down suppressing fire as they turned around.

It wasn't like there were Innie forces left standing to greet them however The first aerial assault had cleared out most of the troops waiting to ambush any assault wishing to establish a beachhead. Still, Gamma Company rushed forth, their SPI making them a fearsome charge of ghost warriors. They were a mirage as they sprinted up off the beaches into the dense rainforest. There were still rebel units dug in that had survived the assault, and they finally rose out of their dug outs to bring heavy static weapon emplacements to bear on their attackers. But even they weren't prepared for the sheer brunt of Gamma Company.

Insurrectionists began to fall as they open fired. Their SPI armor kept them no more than a blur until they finally came within range. Rebels began firing in return, but it was too late to halt the advance and to close for their fortifications to be used as an advantage now. A full company of Spartans fell upon them.

Isaiah led Scimitar at the front of it, his MA5B raised firmly in front of him. His life long training reduced the battle to a blur, a ritualistic rush that he carried out without thought. Every target that was sighted was instantly targeted and brought down with a precise burst of assault rifle fire. His augmentations made them a wave of killing machines, stampeding through rebel lines. As they accumulated battle damage, their invisibility devolved to simply being a mirage of death and slaughter. He did not question where his team mates whereas he knew instinctively that they were at his side, following his lead. All he thought about was charging forward and continuing the killing until there wasn't an innie left standing.

The dense rainforest made a total killing ground, as rebels attempted to retreat over the treacherous terrain, only to be caught by the faster moving Spartans. Some engaged in hand to hand combat as they closed in, the unaugmented Humans no match for the prowess of an experienced Spartan. Isaiah could guess that only a small force had been planted here as a barrier before the actual rebel stronghold, to slow down any attacker.

They eventually broke through however, rainforest giving way to open fields which had seemingly be cleared decades ago. It was still difficult terrain, with ridges and natural trenches making it a slow advance. A new wave of rebels joined the fight, these ones being not uniformed troops, but a militia. They used the ridges as cover, and actual Insurgent troops began using grenadier tactics, lobbing explosives towards where the Spartans had found their own cover.

In this longer range terrain, the Spartans switched to proper skirmish tactics. They no longer had the sheer charging power and the advantage of fully cloaked SPI Armor in a dense environment. Some didn't abide to this however, some squads pressing over the difficult terrain to meet the enemy at a closer range. While SPI Armor was no real protection against Covenant plasma fire, it was definitely strong enough to shrug off most small arms fire. Still, Isaiah disapproved of such risky tactics; if they could be even called tactics. Scimitar held position from cover, Isaiah switching to his Battle Rifle to target enemies at a distance.

More delaying tactics as the rebels began a torch and burn to cover their retreat. SPI was higher quality than standard ODST Armor, designed to survive the sheer acceleration of riding a Drop Pod into an atmosphere, but they would roast if they actually tried to press through anything more than a small bush fire. The rebels seemed content on starting a wall of fire to hold their attackers back.

As more and more rebels retreated from battle before their escape was blocked off by the fires, new orders came through.

_"Sierra Gamma, press forward. Rebel forces cannot be allowed time to retreat."_

As conventionally foolhardy as it sounded, pressing forward both into flames as well as possibly more fortified insurgent positions instead of attempting to flank around, it certainly gave proof the rebels were stalling for time. They needed to advance, no matter what the cost. What might have been a suicidal order for Marines, was the acceptable to a Spartan III.

"Press forward, Scimitar!" Isaiah shouted to his squad members as he charged forward. They rolled forward, a green wave, as the entire Gamma Company stopped skirmishing and resumed the charge. What rebel units remained immediately broke and scattered in all directions at the sight of the assault. What few that were left, cut off from retreat by the fires behind them, were mowed down without pause by charging Spartans.

They continued through the flames. Isaiah barred his teeth has he felt his SPI Armor heat up and the more delicate systems crash from overheat. Gel boiled. Their invisibility was gone now, and their skin was almost aflame itself as they pressed through unbearable heat. Thankfully however, the fires were short in width, and they emerged out the other side alive, where more rebels had hunkered down, waiting for them.

While their SPI and under armour was flameproof, the cooled gel between the armor plates preventing their skin from incurring any serious burns save some serious blistering, they never the less trailed flames and still flaming elements of the forest. If there anything that was more morally crushing than seeing over a few hundred flaming Spartans come charging out of an inferno into your ranks, it would only be contained within hell itself.

Their weapons suffered significant trauma, and Isaiah felt his skin blister. While he had only spent less than a dozen seconds among the flames, his armor had overheated and the gel layer had most likely begun to melt.

Even though all of them were suffering in pain, they did not cease, nor did they slow. Isaiah raised his Assault Rifle and began firing at the first rebels he saw. Bullets pinged off the edges of his armor, and he saw some Spartans alongside him fall.

This entire assault was absolutely disastrous. Their air support had evaporated after landing, and no other UNSC units seemed present or even attacking the rebels on other fronts. Any soldier could have instantly recognized the battle they were fighting was doomed to fail, but Gamma Company weren't regular soldiers. They continued to press on, through odds that would obliterate any company of even the most hardened and experienced ODST's.

The battle continued, as Spartans continued to route the rebels. The wall of fire seemed to be their last line, as Gamma Company finally reached their proper fortifications, reaching the AA Weapons that had stopped the Falcons from dropping them closer to the actual rebel stronghold. They were proper Viper Missile Batteries, serious enough hardware to take any UNSC aircraft out of the sky. Concreted enough, even an unshielded Frigate.

After breaking through the last line, they finally emerged into a well cleared, flat field that lay before the outer perimeter fence of the Rebel's main base, which sat up against Tilgen Mountain.

This is where the Headhunters had come in. The wire fences were already in shambles, rebel machine-gun bunkers rubble. Well fortified steel doors that led into the underground lair where the Rebel's had made home was blown right open. Bypassing the main fight, the bulk of the twenty strong Headhunter force had removed the most difficult obstacle in their path.

_"Great work, Gamma. You're through the front lines. Enter the Insurrectionist stronghold and neutralize all personnel. Priority target are being uploaded as NAV Markers now."_

The concrete was already thick with blood by time the last shaken rebels were now faced with the actual wave.

Scimitar fought alongside their brothers and sisters as they annihilated what was left of the standing rebels as they pushed deeper into the facility. The rebel stronghold was a former UNSC military installation built in the early period of the Covenant War that had taken advantage of old mining tunnels to dig out a considerable underground base. The rebels hadn't failed to maintain it. Corridors were beige colored, well lit and perfectly constructed, as if they were aboard a UNSC starship.

Without pause, they followed the rebels deeper into their tunnels and corridors. For the first time since landing, Isaiah took a larger accounting of the situation. His mission cloak only read forty minutes since landing. Considering all they had been faced with, it wasn't bad for a lightning strike.

"Be aware, Scimitar. Focus on priority targets," Isaiah advised as he slid a new clip into his rifle. They moved deeper into the Insurrectionist compound, with two other Fire Teams behind them, though the corridors they came across were occupied only by fallen rebels.

"The Headhunters already probably got em, all, boss," Chris mentioned over their squad COM, "just saying."

"Bet we'll have to go over this entire place anyway," David added, "they can't trust a III to get the job done proper, right?"

"Can it, Scimitar. We're approaching power generators," Isaiah told them. Ahead as an unbreached door and behind it was a NAV marker that Intel marked as being a power source judged by thermal readings. It was highly probable that Innies were still inside.

"Breach and clear," another Squad Leader commanded, the combined fourteen Spartans moving towards the door. A Spartan with an explosives pack moved up to the door and rigged a charge onto it. They pulled back and readied themselves.

"Breach!" was shouted and a second later, the door blasted open. A second later, a noxious brown gas spilled out. The Spartans at first, held position, being protected by their sealed SPI Armor. Their vision was blocked, and the gas was hot enough to cloud their helmet's heat vision. The attack came next.

A Spartan right next to Isaiah collapsed, his faceplate shattering as high-impact rounds suddenly thundered out of the breached room, shattering his limited shield generator in an instant. They were the same fiery rounds they had seen before. A grenade came next, and for a moment, Isaiah felt the world sat painfully still. Spartans scattered, leaped and dodged, but even their masterful reflexes couldn't save them.

The Incendiary Grenade exploded in the midst of them, covering them in that sticky, flaming sand substance. Collectively, they all once again became pyres of flames.

* * *

Fire Team Saber was left to do nothing but follow the Headhunters and other squads wake. Nothing but corpses, both of armed and unarmed rebel personnel alike, simply littered the battle damaged corridors, the florescent light now flickering. They were getting deeper and deeper, to where they could come upon the underground hangar bay where the rebels were keeping the vessel that was their target.

Ash headed the pack, keeping alert. In truth, he was frustrated with being left to pick up the pieces. The only shots they had fired so far was putting down innies that were still clutching onto life as they lay bleeding out on the floor. This was most likely the result of their past failure, to be left to this tiresome duty. This stuff should have been left to Marine squads, to clean up after the actual fighting moved through. Strangely enough, command hadn't landed any additional units, despite the fact that three hundred Spartans would never be able to catch all the rebel remnants that would escape into the jungle.

They continued to move with a grim silence. Ash wondered if the rebels had any additional preparations or traps. Many weren't actual trained insurgents that would be found elsewhere that were experienced in the art of guerrilla warfare, but former Marine, Army and Defense elements, mixed in with the average rebel militias. They had met them using UNSC tactics, and that was at least worth some commendation, that they fought like proper soldiers, making it far easier to fight an actual battle than spend tedious hours pursuing them down.

Still, killing innies was a boring task for Saber. Organized or unorganized, they were so.. conventional, and predictable. Asides from a few rare rogue Spartan IV's, they weren't even a challenge or a threat. They would much more prefer to be throttling some Elites out on the frontier, but no, here they were, prowling for rebels. Has Command not marked this operation such a high priority, it should have been left to ODST's, even regular marines.

"Hold up," Mark suddenly spoke, raising his arm for them to stop. "Casualties."

They'd been so unfocused that they hadn't noticed that among the corpses, lay a pair of dead Headhunters. Their armor was charred, as if set alight. Ash moved forward, with a good guess what this could be. He knelt down and inspected the damage as his two team members stood alert.

"Flamethrowers?" Mark suggested, tightening up his grip on the Battle Rifle he held.

"No," Ash dismissed. "They wouldn't leave impact like this," he moved his hand along the broken SPI armor. High-impact, like repeated Battle-Rifle shots. More ONI experimental weapons? It was the same weapon they'd used in the previous battle, by that rogue Spartan. How many of these did the rebels get their hands on? How did they take down a pair of experienced Headhunters as well?

Taking one of the charred helmets by the head, he removed a standard data-chip at the back of the fallen Headhunter's head. Placing it in his own helmet, the data unencrypted and appeared. A NAV marker appeared on his HUD, marking a position where ONI spooks had triangulated an intercept on their COMs. Somebody here was listening into their COM chatter and that marked a priority target.

He picked himself back up and stood up. He studied the junction ahead, trying to judge whether there were anymore Innies ahead. Where these Headhunters the only ones pushing forward here? Where there other fire teams ahead? If not... then they were now the front line.

"On alert, Saber," Ash instructed. "Guess we just found the fight."

They moved forward, weapons raised. Nothing was appearing on their motion trackers. The audio began picking up however, with a loud banging coming from the corridors ahead. What was it?

He motioned for them to take up a loose formation, moving forward quickly and quietly. As they had missed out on most of the battle outside, their SPI was still functioning one hundred percent, and they only appeared as ghosts, nothing but a faint presence.

"Hold up," Oliva called, sighting something. "Something."

They halted and after a few seconds of scanning, Ash spotted them too. The trap was almost nigh invisible, that only Oliva's quick eyes had picked up on. They were brown canisters simply sitting around corners, inconspicuous asides from a small device that sat where a grenade's pin would usually sit. These devices could by proximity mines, or simply rigged to explode. This entire place could possibly be rigged to explode and knowing their desperation, they just might do it.

He motioned to Mark, who grabbed a fallen rebel's helmet and tossed it through the upcoming junction, skimming it along the ground. The cannisters didn't detonate, but there was no telling what could set them off. Ash didn't like the look of them, and it was certainly no explosive he recognized. He wished he had his old friend Dante's luck with this kind of stuff. That member of Saber was either a genius or simply had a fantastic luck when it came to explosives.

Ash pushed the thought aside, and motioned for the still living members of Saber to follow him. Now was no time to remember the dead. The best thing they could do was find that COM interceptor and shut it down. The last thing the rebels needed to know was their movement.

The NAV marker was now only a forty meters away. Ash peaked down the corridor, seeing the doors. They stood back, looking for any sign of enemy movement. Slowly, they moved in, noticing more of those cannisters sitting in corners and hidden under corpses. Things were getting tight and they had to be highly cautious. From their underground position, they couldn't contact command nor back out from the fight now. It was expected the deployment of three hundred Spartans would wipe the innies out within the hour.

For all they knew, they could be tip toeing around for naught while the rest of the company was already rallying together to pull out at the heart of the facility. Still, they couldn't be arrogant however. Those dead Headhunters proved that the innies did have capability down here.

Slowly pushing the door open, revealed a room that had most likely at some point, served as a command center. There were still wires lying about, and signs of a recent evacuation. The electronic suite that was intercepting UNSC communications was still there however. A trap? Or simply abandoned? Perhaps they wised up and knew ONI had found them through triangulating the thing?

Never the less, Ash motioned for Mark to simply take it out. He raised his Battle Rifle and with a few precision shots, took out every last part of the device for good. Suddenly, their motion trackers refreshed, now at a wider range. They could now pick up other Spartans now, including the pair of deceased Headhunters they had found. There were two more squads with green status a few dozen meters down from them. A NAV marker also appeared, motioning them downward to their new confirmed target, the Hangar.

"Let's move," Ash nodded, motioning for them to move out. They moved with speed once again, quickly moving to close in on the NAV marker. The corridors down lower were full of nothing but fallen rebels. Without warning the dozen green signals on his HUD winked off. Their motion scanners were jammed.

"We've lost them," Mark spoke up. "Are they dead or are we just getting jammed again?"

"Don't discount either," Ash warned, still pressing ahead. "We're getting closer."

* * *

The hangar was certainly large enough to house something of serious bulk. Originally, this massive underground space was built with plans to house a generator for an experimental EMP weapon that ONI had hoped could disrupt or even disable Covenant ships in space above. Smaller scale tests failed however, and trying to reproduce it on a larger scale was scrapped. At the same time, UNSC forces were pulled back from New Brandenburg to reinforce more Inner Colonies that were in sight of the Covenant.

The garrison here had defected after the war ended, not that it was made known to any other loyal UNSC forces on the planet. Now this place played host to their greatest plan. Over a year, parts had been brought together. An old Freighter had been taken here, and slowly refitted for a long range journey. New Slip Space drives were fitted as well as additional power sources. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Over eight dozen personnel were still rushing around the ship, making sure all final preparations were ago. Their commander had called in the desperate measures. ONI had landed Spartans which had fought a curbstomp battle surfaceside. As they moved underground, they were slightly countered by more veteran troopers armed with the best weapons they could find. Even some of the stolen System's Alliance weapons they had traded with other rebel factions for the components they needed to complete the ship, were used in combat now. Even with them, it was inevitable that the Spartans find their way here.

It was still an hour until the original ETA that Max had given. They obviously didn't have that long. They were blasting off now, trusting that their Slip Space drives had accumulated enough charge to make a successful jump.

Thompson himself hefted a metal box, the very last of their gear, like a suitcase as he quickly moved to finally get aboard. A dozen plain-uniformed rebel personnel jogged around the hangar as the last flight checks were done.

"All personnel, report to your stations for the final phase. Repeat! All report to your final stations!"

Max truly had left their escape to the last minute. Gunfire began outside as their final line of defense came under attack. It wasn't long now.

Thompson quickly sprinted over to the boarding ramp of their craft. Max and at least a dozen Troopers were waiting at the very edge. While Max was unmoved the Troopers anxiously twitched. One rebel in heavy Orbital Shock armor carried a foreign heavy machine-gun, the one that had been labelled a M -76 'Revenant' Assault Rifle by ONI, already slowly raising it to the entrance that linked the hangar to the rest of the base.

Max took a Handheld COM and gave the next set of instructions.

"Open the Hangar Doors. Prepare for immediate takeoff. Clear the sky," Max gave three simple commands. Underneath them, the engines whirled as they powered up. Above them, there was the grinding of metal as the doors above eased open. Hidden Viper Launchers buried into the side of the mountains finally exposed themselves, knocking the incoming wave of drones out of the sky. Further UNSC Air Forces that had thought the air defenses eliminated turned around and high-tailed it.

Finally, the doors broke and a squad of Spartans entered the hangar. Heavy emplacements on both sides of the Hangar Bay opened up, dust frayed up into the air where hundreds of high-calibre rounds landed. The Spartans slunk back outside the door, faced with overwhelming firepower.

The Landing Ramps raised themselves up, and soon, they couldn't hear the battle outside at all. Max frowned deeply, fiddling with a remote in his hands. The rumbling of the engines now turned into a roar, as the ship began to lift off.

"A few months ago, when you first told me about it all, I thought you were mad," Max suddenly told them. "If it wasn't from all the proof you had, I sure as hell wouldn't stick my neck like this. But here we are now."

Max mused on that for a bit, before activating the remote, triggering the remote detonators attached to the many, many cans of GKN-9 scattered throughout the base. A hot, non-flammable gas, but totally corrosive to both stone and metal. The metal decaying properties would erode even the Spartan's armor, would be the death of everyone inside this base today.

* * *

Saber Team had taken a different route that the conventional. While the Hanger itself was ventilated directly to the surface unlike the rest of the base, it still had structural weaknesses along the western and eastern walls. They had taken a small pack of the C-24 charges and pressed it against one of those aforementioned weaknesses.

Judging by the sheer noise, their fellow Spartans could already be fighting their way into the hangar. If they activated the charges now, they could risk friendly fire, since their trackers were disabled. If there was innies on the other side though, this could be very rewarding indeed.

They had been strongly_ advised_, against using explosives to destroy structural walls, since this base wasn't exactly hardened as a proper military installation should be. It was no underground fortress of Reach; immune to anything below orbital bombardment, and here, the removal of a few walls through concentrated explosions could cause a cave in.

Still, Ash judging it a worthy trade-off. They needed to deal with the last few rebels and they couldn't wait. They needed to create a new route for them to flank the rebels hiding behind the stranglehold that was the hangar entrance. He motioned for Mark to detonate the charges.

The explosion was larger than the charges. On the other side of the wall, was a machine-gun emplacement that was laying cover fire down on the hangar entrance. The corridor was rocked, and the ceiling cracked. Saber Team didn't give them time to rest however, charging through the gap.

A bullet skimmed his helmet as he came through. Ash immediately opened fire on the few remaining Troopers who hadn't been caught by the explosion. With one of the two gun emplacements destroyed, fire on the entrance diminished to the point where a few Spartans could lean in and finally return fire.

At the center of the Hanger, was a strange Freighter, seemingly built custom by the rebels, like the makeshift attack vessels favored by raiders. This wasn't built for raiding however. It had bulky fuel tanks on both flanks, and was strangely constructed. Right now, it was lifting off. Brown gas was suddenly seeping through all corners of the room, confusing Spartan and rebel alike.

Could the Navy intercept it? Their Frigates couldn't get close without copping a few missiles, and if the ship did an in-atmosphere jump. In any situation, it couldn't be allowed to leave this facility.

He spotted the Rocket Boosters, temporary engines strapped onto ships to achieve vertical takeoff in atmosphere for ships that simply couldn't do it on their own. It was his obvious target. Ash targeted one of the boosters and began to unload his entire clip.

The brown gas began to lap at his feet, and Mark and Olivia disappeared off his HUD, but he didn't cease firing until the clip emptied. Ash ejected it, and quickly snapped in a new one. One of the eight Rocket Boosters on the side of the ship was now sparking heavily, and spluttering, slowing the freighter's ascent. Half way through the second clip, it gave out completely and caught alight.

Then his Assault Rifle jammed. Ash glared down at the weapon and saw it had suddenly accumulated a layer of rust, and so was his armor. The brown gas was all around them now, decaying their equipment. When it finally began to crack his armor, he felt the gas touch his skin, setting it aflame. He gritted his teeth in pain, but didn't stop. Their armor froze up, as if rusting, and soon, they couldn't move anywhere.

Ash tore his helmet from his head, forcing himself to bear the toxic gas that melted his skin. It burned painfully, but he ignored it. He pushed forward.

The use of the Rocket Boosters was either a great coincidence or a very smart move. The massive downflow of the Boosters kept the decay gas well away from the Rebel ship as it lifted off. Right now, the remaining rebel soldiers who hadn't been left behind were rolling around on the ground, screaming in pain. A few Spartans had fallen too, but lay in rotten armor silently.

Tearing a grenade from his satchel, the very skin of it rotting away as he touched it, he prepared to chuck it. His now decaying armor inhabited his throw, the armor alloy beginning to crack as if under the pressure of extreme heat, almost ready to shatter from pressure. Ash ignored it, looking to his target.

The vessel was now hovering above the hanger, at least a few hundred meters now. It's ascent was slow, but it mattered little. They were down here choking to death on toxin while those rocket batteries warded off any UNSC aircraft. Ash didn't care how impossible the task was, only that he had to do it. Adrenaline rushed through him as he pulled the pin and chucked it with all his fury.

The sheer pressure, his augmented strength, pushed his ruined amour beyond its limited endurance, the metal shattering around his arm. Some of it dug deep into the melted gel layer, some pierced his skin. The throw was sabotaged and the explosive fell short, hurtling up into the air but coming tumbling back down and simply exploding amongst a pile of dying rebels.

With the remains of his armor shattering around him like glass, the toxic swirled around him. His skin was dead, and all underneath was dying too. Many of his fellow Spartans had chosen to retreat, disappearing in the brown haze. Ash didn't move however, his mind gone. His anger was pushed to a new breaking limit. His illegal augmentations took over, his fury now completely in control. He wanted to tear that ship; now hovering just above them and readying to activate its own engines; out of the sky if it was the last thing he did.

He reached down and seized the second and last grenade in his satchel. A short touch revealed it still intact. Without pause, he repeated his earlier action. He took the grenade, activated it and pegged it with all the strength he did and didn't have. His augmentations pushed his body past its natural limit, his bones disconnecting and some shattering in half. He didn't falter for a second though, and the grenade left his hand exactly as intentioned.

What Ash once relied upon his armor for was replaced by his swirling rage. He didn't last any longer though. His strength gave out and his body finally acknowledged the amount of damage it had taken. He collapsed to his knees, and simply fell forward, unconscious.

The last thing he heard was a detonation.

* * *

Isaiah was coughing, almost near sputtering. His armor no longer worked, both broken and rotten around him. He shed it quickly as he could, as he stumbled away. For the first time he could remember, the Spartans of Gamma Company ran a full retreat. The base was a deathtrap, and the toxic gas inside shattered their gear and set their skin aflame.

It also thankfully had reduced the insurgents to a state where they couldn't fight anymore too.

Back into natural light, Isaiah slumped down to his knees. His skin was dead and already peeling, and only now could he start to breath again. As he recovered, he whirled around, looking in the skies. There was no aircraft, save a strange freighter that hovered somewhere up the unscalable mountain. That must have been the rebel ship mentioned.

It hung on Rocket Boosters that kept it afloat while its own aft mounted engines began to whirl to life. Suddenly, a detention went off, an explosive just under one of the Rocket Boosters. The fuel caught alight, and the entire rocket exploding, causing a chain reaction of every rocket on the left side. The pilots must have attempted to disconnect the rockets early as soon as the first explosion, the boosters on the right side of the ship now twirling off into the sky, like out of control missiles.

It wasn't enough though, one of the rockets near the aft of the ship exploding and damaging the actual engines. With the Rocket Boosters keeping the ship ascending vertically gone, as well as a third of their own engine capability, the ship dipped and began to plummet out of the sky. It collided into the mountainside beginning to cart wheel downward. It proved more hardy than it looked, and survived the roll intact to come to a stop at the bottom of the mountain.

All that happened in under a minute. Isaiah still was kneeling, stunned by the events. The ship finally stopped moving, laying still amid crushed jungle not far from where they were at the entrance to the rebel base. Three dozen wounded Spartans watched on, their armor and weapons destroyed. Finally, they tore weapons from deceased rebel defenders and rallied together, now deprived of their armor but not their endurance.

Isaiah picked up a MA5C Carbine off a fallen innie, checking the weapon for the decay damage done by the bio-weapon. Thankfully it had none, and the weapon still worked perfectly fine. Without the SPI armor he had grown so accustomed to, he felt exposed, but that wouldn't stop him or any of them. The Spartans approached silently and fast, forsaking the brash rush tactics they had used earlier for a more quicker approach.

Quickly, the bullets began to fly.

* * *

In orbit over New Brandenburg, the UNSC Battle Fleet hung solemnly, waiting for their moment.

On the bridge of the UNSC Idella, Agent Harrison waited anxiously. Admiral Belforn sat in the command chair, staring at the planet below in silence as if slowly mulling something over.

"Sir, groundside forces have confirmed that the rebel stronghold has been neutralized," an officer from Intel reported, causing the Admiral to stir. "They also confirm that the rebel ship has been stopped from leaving the atmosphere. All mission objectives have been completed."

"That's good to hear," Belforn nodded, standing up and strolling across the bridge. The Idella's AI, itself appearing as a Roman Centurion by the name of Domocos; spoke up.

"There is something that seems to be a chemical weapon that has been unleashed on the surface," Domocos told them. "An experimental gas known as GKN, mark nine, by ONI. It seems to have neutralized our ground forces equipment and inflicted some casualties."

Harrison shot Domocos a harsh glare. The AI had yet to give the thumbs up signal and now was only prattering out information that the Navy didn't need to know. Honestly, he thought about pressing ahead himself, but he remembered his orders. They weren't to initiate the scheme until Domocos gave the go ahead.

"Will there be any trouble?" the Admiral questioned, stepping back from the observation window and turning to face the AI.

"The battle has already been concluded by our ground side forces, Admiral," Domocos explained. "The gas is only a obstacle though... it seems to be accumulating at an alarming rate."

"Do you think its the reason why ONI-" Admiral Belforn gave no sign of acknowledgement to the spook on his bridge, "declared the evacuation?"

"I am not informed of such information, Admiral, but from I'm detecting, the rebel's may have more of this chemical weapon than we first thought," Domocos simply stated. "While the battle is over, it is most certainly wise to keep our weapons on stand-by. I am detecting quite some many anomalies..."

"If the battle is over and the rebel threat neutralized, then we should give the order to withdraw the ground forces," the Admiral declared.

"Not required, Admiral," Harrison finally spoke up. "Our men down there are fully equipped with the correct equipment to deal with chemical attacks. The nature of this chemical weapon, it would simply damage, even incapacitate any transports we send to unnecessarily evacuate them. It is best that we stand by until the chemical dissipates in a number of hours."

Belforn didn't respond to that, only nodding.

* * *

**Authors Afterward:**

**There it is, Chapter Five. Yea, it was a long wait. Yea, even I struggled to finish this by the deadline I set for today, Sunday. I originally wanted to wrap up the whole New Brandenburg thing in one chapter, but this chapter has passed ten thousand words and Sunday is almost over. Taking in some reviewer critique, I rewrote half of the chapter to remove some of the chapter's worser elements.**

**While this chapter after the first segment was almost purely battle, it carries out the beginning of a very important series of events. A tri-set of blockages have prevented me from continuing. Actually getting around to typing out the Battle of New Brandenburg to the point where it would come to the conclusion I wanted it to was difficult. That's one of them, but I've also had trouble writing both the ME and the Spartan V segments, both due to the fact I don't really know how to write the characters just yet.**

**It's really just a problem in Act I. Most of the interesting cross-universe intrigue (the real interesting meat of the story) vanishes up until the beginning of Act II. There is also a significant time gap between Act I and II that's hammering me on how to work all the elements in with. I can't cut it out, because its crucial to understanding the later events of Act II and beyond. **

**But, blocks aside, I've got this past me. I hope you enjoyed Chapter Five. **


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